Of Swans and Apple Trees
by Bergliot
Summary: She was an apple tree, an emblem for rebirth, for youth, and for vitality; and it was in her twining, blooming branches that a family of fallen crows had found solace. Rootless she is, but strength she bears, holding them all on her shoulders. But in the changing winds, the gentle melody of a swan's fatal verse is heard, and the crows must once again learn to fly on their own.
1. Apollonia Eevastiina Manner

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_She was an apple tree, an emblem for rebirth, for youth, and for vitality; and it was in her twining, blooming branches that a family of fallen crows had found solace. Rootless she is, but strength she bears, holding them all on her shoulders. But in the changing winds, the gentle melody of a swan's fatal verse is heard, and the crows must once again learn to fly on their own._

* * *

_One year before storyline._

_"The American."_

* * *

"Did you hear, we're getting an exchange student from America!"

"America you say? Man, I hope it's a girl, a really cute one. I could show her around town and take her to an amusement park!"

"You have a one track mind, I just want to learn more about American culture. Did you know, they don't have to go to school on Saturdays, and their public schools don't require uniforms!"

"Maa, I wonder when they will be arriving."

"Well, we'll be able to spot them a mile away, they won't look like us after all."

"Shh, don't say it like it's a bad thing, what if he or she hears you?!"

Ah, a new year, and of course, the topic of interest was not at all academics or trending pop culture, but the possibility that a foreigner was going to be attending Karasuno High School, which in reality was not all that fascinating, yet people at Karasuno sure knew how to blow even the smallest of details out of proportion.

Sugawara and Daichi exchanged glances as they strolled towards their class, subconsciously partaking in the flurry of gossip around them without actually speaking. Tanaka, however, was less than subtle when he laced his arms around his teammates and howled, "Have you guys heard about the American?! Oh, I can't wait, if she's a girl, I hope she'll be pretty like Kiyoko-chan!"

Daichi sighed, "I'm hoping that it's a guy, and I hope he's good at volleyball."

"Don't get so down, Daichi-san, we'll be alright this year. We just need to keep fighting is all, whether we have the foreign exchange student or not," Sugawara interjected enthusiastically.

"Are you saying you're not interested in the American, Sugawara-kun," Tanaka asked, his expression turning more and more grotesque as he neared it towards the setter. Sugawara immediately lurched back.

"Aa, stop making that face, Tanaka. I'm interested in the foreign exchange student, just like everyone else, but they would probably prefer not to be stared at like a zoo animal."

Tanaka raised an eyebrow, "So you're saying, that if it was a pretty girl, you wouldn't even spare a second look?"

Sugawara's face turned a bright red, his mouth turning into a hard frown. He unlatched his teammate's arm from his neck and stalked off a little faster towards his class than necessary. From the distance, Daichi and Tanaka could hear their setter call out, "I have control, you know!" Heartily, they laughed.

…

Well… this was unexpected.

By sheer luck, the foreign exchange student just so happened to be in none other than Sugawara Koushi's class. It was not entirely difficult to distinguish her from them: her eyes were a bit wider with a shape that contrasted their own, her nose sharper and turned up, her face bonier, the hue of her skin more pink and powdered than his own.

She seemed to acknowledge their cognizance of her foreign face, and braced herself as she straightened up and spoke.

"Hello, my name is Apollonia Eavastiina Manner. I was born in Kalajoki, Finland, but I recently moved here from California. I hope that I share a delightful school year with you all."

Her voice was rigid, as if she were reading from a poorly written script in a flat line tone that would make even the dowdiest professors doze off. She didn't seem to be aware of her own monotone, instead just nodding her head as the teacher welcomed her to Japan.

The students however...

"… I thought Americans were more lively than this," a classmate commented quietly. The student next to him nodded his head.

"... And bigger. I mean, like around," the student made a crude gesture towards his chest while finishing, "I thought American's had more meat."

"Well, you heard her, she's not American, she's from Finland. They probably look different there."

The student wore an expression that was a bit too disappointed for his own good.

"Maa, how disappointing."

Sugawara glanced around at his fellow classmates, perturbed that they were making such a big deal about her appearance. Sure she was irrationally tall, and had an unfortunate flat chest, and her face was more handsome than it was pretty, and even though it seemed that she had the emotional vibrancy of old paint, and her hair was short and cropped like some forest fairy and was _ghastly_ white like an old man's, and also…

Alright, maybe he was just as guilty for scrutinizing the American—rather the Finn—in such a rude manner as everyone else had. He felt a tinge of guilt settle in his stomach. He was no better than his lecherous classmates, when he so proudly resolved to treat her like a normal human being.

On the bright side, she had a very feminine voice, which offset her lack of assets. He could at least feel contented with himself for noting her positive characteristics such as her voice. And also…

And…

Well he couldn't exactly think of anything else at the time, but he was sure that if he befriended her, he would definitely find other positive aspects about her!

She was ushered to a seat far at the other end of the classroom, sitting with half of her face in the morning sun. Her pale hair and even paler eyelashes lit up like a lantern in broad daylight, washing out most of her skin like bleach. She was half leaned over on his desk, her forearms propping her up in an attentive posture as the teacher continued on with their lesson plans while passing out papers.

The students around her seemed to be fixated on her foreign appearance—probably not expecting something as far north as a woman from Finland of all places, especially considering they were probably expecting a burly, handsome American. It was a decent amount of mileage to travel from North to West to way Far East, which begged the question: what sort of reasons did she bear to jump from country to country—from _continent_ to _continent_?

It was fascinating for sure, which was probably why those who had not altogether disregarded her sat erect in their seat, following her every movement: when she would switch ankles while crossing her legs, when she would scratch her cheek with her index finger, when her brow would suddenly furrow as she tried to decipher an excessively complex piece of writing.

She had become a novelty, plain and simple for those who were not hung up on the preconceived notion of her being a buxom, bubbly, beautiful foreigner. Apollonia, however, seemed detached from their fascination, and looked to be more intrigued in the scenery outside than in her classmates around her.

Sugawara could not help but glance to the side every so often, catching her profile as she stared forwards with her pen resting quietly in her left hand. He felt his eyebrow rise slightly: she was left-handed? Well than was another positive quirk he could add on with her voice. Sugawara inwardly high-fived himself: he was making great progress!

Unfortunately, Sugawara's inwardly celebration had somehow manifested outside of his body: apparently he had pumped his fist while chirping, 'Yosh!' during the middle of class.

His movements frozen in time, he looked around to see that all of his classmates, including his teacher had turned their attention onto him. He could feel his face warm a thousand shade of red, and slowly lowered his arm until it sat ashamedly in his lap, his shoulders scrunched as he tried to curl within himself to escape the horrid first impression he had made upon the new school year.

What made matters worse, was that he was foolish enough to turn his head to the side in Apollonia's direction, and found that her neck was high and stretched in response to his sudden outburst, her eyes wide in astonishment at his actions. Good God, she probably thought all Japanese boys were strange due to his outlandish behavior—he probably just sullied every image she had of their kind, and would no doubt go to the fullest extent to avoid him, as if he bore some foreign disease or something.

On a lighter note, when his stare met her, he had noticed for the first time,

Just how bright her calcite eyes really were.

…

He fished out his bento, heading back to the homeroom so that he would be able to eat his lunch—and hopefully forget about his little scene he had made that morning.

Much to his misfortune, he found that his homeroom was mostly empty—which in theory should have been a good thing—but what really perturbed him was among the few people still inhabiting the room, an astoundingly white figure sat in her chair with an uncharacteristically bemused expression. Few students sat somewhat near her; close enough to touch, though no one was brave enough to make a move. Not that Sugawara was surprised, after all, she was rather intimidating, and as she sat longer in the basking light, she looked like a living ghost, or something almost as poetic.

With resolve, Sugawara braced himself and took the long road of marching up towards her desk, his face twisted with hesitation and his palms sweating feverishly. His mouth was hard yet shivering, and as he made his way to her desk and met again those unyielding calcite eyes, he swallowed the boulder of fear lodged in his throat and bowed—though he gracelessly knocked his head into her desk. He snapped back up and held his forehead, looking at her from under his hands as a familiar pink took his skin.

Her eyes were wide with astonishment once again, though a sort of apologetic hue mixed with her stoic expression, as if she felt bad for his unfortunate existence.

"Are you alright," she asked. "You seem to be very clumsy," she deadpanned.

Sugawara laughed a little more forcefully than he should have, holding out his hand as if to say, _'No! I'm all right, I swear! And I'm really a normal, coordinated person, honest!'_ He lowered his arm back to his side and revealed the bit of bruise forming on his forehead, smiling weakly as he bowed with a little more skill.

"U-uh, hello, my name is Sugawara Koushi. Welcome to Karasuno! If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask!"

Feeling flustered, he turned sharply to walk back towards his own desk, but was taken off guard when he heard her feminine, spritely voice.

"Do you have food courts here, or vending machines? I don't really know how lunch periods work here in Japan, so I didn't really bring anything today."

Sugawara was shell-shocked that she was actually asking _him_ of all people for help, especially considering his stupidity that fate had unfortunately decided to unearth from him that morning. Still, with a grin, he fluffed up his feathers and held out his hand to her.

"We have vending machines here, I can take you to them if you like!"

…

It would have been a lie to say that Sugawara did not feel uncomfortable walking down the halls with Apollonia at his side, the woman unfortunately surpassing him by the smallest of centimeters.

He brightly noted that she seemed to not be a vulgar woman, and wore her skirt modestly at her knee. As well, despite the mild day, she seemed contented in wearing her shirt completely buttoned up to the top, even with her blazer closed and secured over the long, sinewy frame. They walked in silence for a while until the palpable tension was enough for Sugawara to forcefully cough just to hear something other than their footsteps.

"So… what brings you to the East, Apollonia-san?" Realizing his faux pas, he quickly held up his hands in defense. "Is it alright that I call you Apollonia-san, or would you prefer Manner-san?"

She looked at him, beguiled, as if she didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"Uh…" Sugawara started, finding the words on how to explain the concept of honorifics to the foreigner in a way that she would likely understand.

"Manner-san would be most respectful, since it's your last name. That way I'm not presumptuous about our relationship."

"Relationship," she inquired.

Sugawara's hands immediately snapped up in defense.

"Saa-aaa, I mean! Well, your closest friends should call you Apollonia-san, or even Apollonia-chan! It was rude for me to be so bold, please forgive me, Manner-san!"

Apollonia looked down at Sugawara, who had his hands folded in prayer to ask for her forgiveness, looking up at her with pitiful brown eyes. Her eyes were unblinking, her mouth straight, but it was not in a coarse fashion. In fact, she looked… _amused_.

Way to boost his ego: a woman was amused by his ineptitude.

"Apollonia," she finally said. "You can just call me Apollonia."

The setter forced his skin to remain a healthy color as he tried to explain that using her name without any suffixes was meant for only informal occasions, but settled with a compromise.

"Apollonia-chan," he said brightly, "here we are!" Sugawara extended his arms to the multitude of vending machines before them, filled with all sorts of snacks and lunches per her preference, along with several beverage machines.

Sadly, the Finn seemed to be overwhelmed by the display and cocked an ivory eyebrow at the choices before her. The colors decorating the packages where bright and almost gaudy—assumedly to appeal to the fast-living teenage lifestyle—but the foreign characters that wrapped around the cans and packages did nothing more than mystify poor, Finnish Apollonia.

She scanned each machine, growing more and more confused by the bizarre food products the Japanese had. "I didn't know that cakes could be made to look like fish. Is that not unappetizing for you?"

Sugawara tried not to laugh, but found his chuckled only partially stifled as he looked slightly up at her. She was fixated on the machines as if they had unplugged themselves from the wall and were dancing right in front of her. He had to admit, she was far less intimidating when she was making a mountain out of a molehill with something as simple as lunchtime snacks, the uncharacteristic look on her face almost twisted enough to be humorous.

"Why not milk, that's pretty popular here," he offered.

"I do not consume many dairy products," she retorted. Sugawara cringed at the metallic edge in her voice, but pushed himself a little further.

"There are coffee machines," he tried.

A flicker of intrigue crossed her eyes, which immediately set Sugawara at ease. He pulled out his wallet and entered a fair about of coins into the beverage machine, and stood back for Apollonia to choose.

"First one's on me," Sugawara said brightly. The look of shock on the Finn's face could not be adequately described, though it did taken her a while to shake herself from her thoughts as she pressed the button that bore the numbers for the can of strict black coffee, watching as the little can protruded from the holder at her knees. She leaned down and lifted the can, inspecting it as if it were an exotic bug or precious stone. Hesitantly she snapped the top open, sniffing it before slowly bringing it to her small, Finnish mouth.

Swallowing down the coffee, Apollonia held out the can to look at it once more.

"Fascinating," she mused. She turned to Sugawara, who had entered a few more coins and had picked out a small juice box for himself. "Thank you," she said, though paused as if she were not finished. Her face had tightened with something he could not identify, though she finally expressed her thoughts as she asked, "Am I obliged to bow to you after I thank you? Is that custom here?"

Sugawara chuckled nervously, "N-no, you really don't have to. Your 'thank you' was more than enough."

Still, Apollonia wanted to be as respectful as possible, especially being in the presence of a foreigner with customs far different from her own. She held to can's neck steady and bowed gratefully, sweeping back up to meet his eyes.

She did not speak another word, yet the gratitude refracting through her calcite was more than enough. Sugawara nodded and began walking back to their homeroom, silently motioning her to follow him as they both sipped on their respective drinks.

…

_Day Two._

_"Thank You."_

He was not entirely prepared for what happened the next day. As surprising as it was, it was a little embarrassing too, especially considering that he really did nothing but pay for a stupid little can of black coffee for her.

But when he came into his class that morning, luckily before any of the other students managed to infiltrate the premises, he found an off little gift on his desk.

It was a juice box, the same flavor as the one he bought a day before when showing Apollonia all of their vending machines. Oddly enough, said Finn seemed to be absent from the room, yet a free, unmarked juice box the same exact flavor as yesterday sat upon his desk. When he picked it up, a small folded piece of paper was lodged under the carton. He opened it up, finding that it was a thank you note with very hesitant kanji. Signed at the bottom was none other than the extravagant name of 'Apollonia Eevastiina Manner,' written with a little more confidence. Her grammar was adequate, although it was clear that whatever Japanese linguistics training she had received before coming to their country was very strict and formal, using a written dialect that was not all that common in their parts.

Still, it was enough to widen the grin on his face.

So, not only was she sentimental, but she was polite as well, yet another quirk of the Finn that Sugawara could mentally document. He tucked the juice away in his bag before glancing at the note once more, tracing each line of her writing as if her could feel her shaking hand as she tried to sound eloquent in a language that she was not familiar with. He chuckled.

"Do your best, Apollonia-chan."

…

"NO WAY! You cannot be serious!"

The overbearing volume of Tanaka was enough to earn a stern glare from Daichi, though he quickly returned his attention to a flushed Sugawara.

"So, you managed to befriend the foreign exchange student… or _something_ of the sort," he chuckled. The setter—unfortunately keen on his captain's innuendo—whipped his hands and crossed them in an exaggerated, 'x' formation.

"It's not like that, I swear! It must just be a custom or something in Finland. She was just being nice."

"Uh huh, yeah, nice," Tanaka responded mulishly, scrunching his mouth together.

"So, what is she like," Daichi inquired.

"Does she kiss as a greeting," Tanaka purred.

Sugawara—with his hands still held up in defense—shook his head and let his mouth habitually spread into an uneasy smile.

"She's very nice, but I swear, I don't know anything about her."

"Does she kiss as a greeting?"

"No, Tanaka."

"Does she play volleyball?"

Of course Daichi would ask such a question.

"The girl's volleyball club is looking for more recruits. If she's half decent, they'd probably love her," he elaborated. Still, Sugawara just shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Eh… I don't know anything about her, and I don't really know how to go about talking to her. I already told her if she had any questions that she could come to me for help."

His two friends nodded sagely as they watched their timid setter slowly unravel, though honestly he had nothing to worry about.

It was only the second day.

…

"Mr. Sugawara?"

Goddamn, it was only the second day.

It was the second day and she actually—willingly—had called out to him, and was making an effort to _talk_ to him on her own accord!

Sure, her manner of approach was European—which ultimately brought a frightful flush to his face as he tried to explain to her that, 'Sugawara-kun' or even 'Koushi-san,' would have sufficed, but earned a rather bleak expression that he had already seen before. It was a solid minute that Sugawara tried to explain the purpose of honorifics and how they could be properly used with his name to avoid embarrassing situations such as questions regarding their relationship. But somehow, Apollonia did not seem to think anything wrong with calling him, 'Koushi,' unadorned, without any decorum. She also didn't seem to be fazed by his nervous sweating, blushing, strained face as he tried to shake off the fact that it was _only the second day_, and the one-hundred eighty centimeter beanstalk foreign exchange student was actually calling him by his first name with a straight face as if they were life long friends, or-or even…

"Koushi?"

Oh, for the love of God and volleyball.

"Uh, yes, Apollonia-chan?"

"Do you know where the track is?"

Track? So, she was a runner? That was… refreshing, in a way. Did she have the cool, levelheaded stamina for distance, or was she a tough and volatile sprinter?

Gauging on Apollonia's personality—or lack thereof—he had to guess probably distance.

"Yes, you just kind of," he pointed past the east wall, gesturing a vague sort of way—which only caused the Finn to become even more bewildered, "and you just take a," Sugawara tried to point the multitude of turns she would have to take, but ultimately found himself tripping over his own tangled words.

"Eh," he laughed, "I'll just take you there."

They walked again in silence, side by side, and all at once, the overpowering sensation of déjà vu had swept over him. Though this time around, there lack of conversation was overall comfortable: there was something calm about her willingness to let her shoes speak as she strolled, and the way that despite her aloof sort of demeanor was perceived, she was actually sharply aware of the smallest details, such as a bird chirping or leaves rustling.

Still, he felt a sort of compulsion to at least say something to her.

"Were you thinking about joining the track club, Apollonia-chan?"

She turned to him, as if she were somewhat surprised about his inquiry, though her face was patient, almost peaceful.

"No."

O-okay then…

Sugawara chuckled and made to just brush the subject off, but to his surprise, Apollonia was not finished talking.

"I have joint problems. I can run and play sports, but I can't exactly practice the way they can. That kind of long term repetition only aggravates it."

There was a certain forced quality about the way that she was speaking, as if she were grasping for the proper vocabulary that she probably found from a 'Finnish to Japanese translator' if such a thing existed. That, or she just felt unbearably uncomfortable talking to him for such an extended period of time. Or, maybe it was a Finnish thing.

"So, you like running then?"

Though she seemed taken back that he was actually pursuing a conversation with her, she replied.

"I like all forms of athletics."

The little Daichi figure fluttering in his head beamed at that statement, grinning with inner musings of, '_ah, this could be promising_.'

"Are you a fan of volleyball then?"

Apollonia nodded lightly. "When I was in California, I played mostly beach volleyball, I found many college players around the beach just passing, so I asked them if I could join them for a few matches."

"As a first year," Sugawara stressed with incredulity.

"I was one hundred and eighty centimeters by the time I finished middle school," Apollonia said, her voice slightly marred by amusement. Sugawara seemed awestruck by this fact, but accepted it nonetheless. After all, he was conversing with a towering Finnish female who looked more like what was suppose to be rescuing fair-haired princesses from towers and dragons rather than wasting her time talking to a timid, second year setter. Anything was possible at this point.

"I travel, a lot," she said, almost awkwardly. "I enjoy playing sports with the locals."

Sugawara slowly nodded, as if he actually comprehended what she was trying to explain.

"So, you travel country to country playing their most popular sports?"

"Sort of. I lived in Finland until Middle School, but during summer and winter breaks I would travel. I've played soccer in Brazil, I've swam in Australia, and as you now, I've played volleyball in America."

"Then, how come you aren't looking at the Kendo Club, or Jujutsu? Would that be more suitable for you?"

"Actually, I would like to try my hand in both of those sports, but sometime during the break. I condition myself by running and weight lifting at school on my own. I just wanted to know where the track was is all, I'm not interested in joining any clubs."

Well, that was sort of… disheartening.

So, she wasn't interested in any clubs, regardless of the sport, she just wanted a place to run and lift weights. Still, if she were no held down by the troublesome duties of club activities, perhaps…

"If you're up to it, you should come by and see my friends and I play. We're part of the volleyball club," he said with a small grin. "We'd love to see how your experience in beach volleyball translates to our indoor court."

In all honesty, the setter was curious: beach players were notorious for jumping higher, darting quicker, and being a better-rounded player in general. In beach volleyball it was just two on two with a lighter ball and a surface of silken sand, drastically different than the cold court and hard ground of indoor: surely she possessed a little something worth watching if she played with college students on the beaches of California.

To his relief, Apollonia didn't seem opposed to the idea; she even openly went as far as asking, "where are the volleyball courts?"

Sugawara grinned.

However, before he could open his mouth, grab her hand and race her to the courts to introduce her to Daichi and Tanaka, a small, tinkling noise of flutes and bells resonated from Apollonia's bag. The Finn whipped out a small—though very stylish—silver phone, holding it back to properly see the title flashing across the front before swiping her finger across the screen to silence the device, turning it off with a small click at its base.

"Sorry, I have to go. Would you mind showing me tomorrow?"

Sugawara nodded and beamed, nodding his head as she turned to retreat the opposite direction.

"See you tomorrow, Apollonia-chan!"

She paused, her alabaster head swiveling slowly as her eyes met his.

"See you tomorrow… Koushi."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_Well, I'm hooked on sport's anime/manga now, and the characters of Haikyuu are absolutely precious! Every last one of them!_

_Please let me know what you think of Apollonia's character, and what you'd like to see from her._

_This fic is labeled as romance, but it is up to you as the readers who you want to see her end up with, or just have it be a harem, whatever you like! Right now, it's kind of partial to Sugawara, but in time she'll have more interactions with each of the characters, right now I just need to establish her background._

_The meaning of what the Apple Tree and Swan shall be explained in later chapters, unless you have theories of what they mean right now (I'd love to hear what you guys are thinking.)_

_Thank you and good night!_


	2. Apple-Senpai

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_Thank you for your reviews, everyone, I am very grateful for them!_

_**Akagami Hime Chan**: I know, sweet little Sugamama is precious when flustered, but I can't wait to delve into his darker side in later chapters!_

_**Jaegger**: Thank you, I'm quite fond of her odd name, and the peculiar translation from Finnish to Japanese dialect will come up in this chapter, I hope you enjoy it!_

_**Duckuu**: I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. I wanted to get this chapter out early, since it's only the beginning stages of the fic, and I wanted to establish her background before I set this in present day with Hinata and the Others!_

_**Guest**: Thank you for your review, I hope this chapter does enough to satiate your interest!_

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_"See you tomorrow, Apollonia-chan!"_

_She paused, her alabaster head swiveling slowly as her eyes met his._

_"See you tomorrow… Koushi."_

* * *

_Montara State Beach, California, 2 Years Before Storyline_

_"Wings of A Swan."_

* * *

"She must be a blocker."

"Well, no shit, but what university?"

"She looks hella valley."

"L.A. maybe?"

"With legs like that, she's a ripper. Totally L.A."

"Fa-sho."

"Long Beach."

"No no no, Anaheim, totally Anaheim."

"Why don't you morons stop staring at her and see for yourself?"

"I'm still on Long Beach. All their players this year have been that tall."

"Yeah, but never that white. Damn, did she block under a rock all season?"

"Yeah, valley girls aren't that pasty."

"God, shut up and ask her over here."

"You're the one who wants to talk to her, you ask her over here."

"You know that you're curious to see if she's even half the blocker that girl from Long Beach is."

"Shut up."

"Hey, Amazon!"

Apollonia snapped her head to the side towards the sudden voice—she didn't feel entirely dignified reacting to the moniker, 'Amazon,' but due to the fact that she was the only woman around above one hundred and sixty-five centimeters, and really the only one within earshot of the group, she felt inclined to turn. Glancing either way, realizing that they were in fact singling her out specifically, The Finn made her way towards the group.

There were five of them: two tall, strapping young men and three girls, lean, tan and muscular. They wore vibrant swimsuits, but all donned a thin cover shirt with an identical logo displayed across the chest. A university of some sort. They ushered her over towards their spot on the sand, where they had ceased setting up their volleyball net solely for the intention of finding out where the Hell this outsider came from.

When Apollonia met their presence, she fund that she stood a few centimeters taller than the three women, though easily met eye to eye with the males. They stared at her as if she were minnow among sharks: which, due to the effeminate color of the men's shorts and the seashell necklaces they both wore, Apollonia found it rather hard to keep a straight face that they had the audacity to look at her in such a way.

"Ay, Amazon," the darker of the two men chirped, "where you from? San Diego? Anaheim? Burbank?"

Struggling to identify the whereabouts of the cities they had listed, Apollonia just settled for an even, "No."

"Well, what school, then? You must be from Long Beach, right? You have to be a blocker."

Growing suddenly impatient with how curt their questions were—the conversation becoming more of an interrogation—Apollonia quipped, "I am not from here."

One of the girls whistled, lifting her sunglasses to reveal a coon mark of white around her eyes in sharp contrast to the burnished orange tint to her skin.

"Da-a-amn, she must be way east coast with that attitude."

One of the other girls chuckled and boisterously agreed, the other fished a volleyball ball out of her bag and tossed it to Apollonia.

"You play, right?"

"Come on, with legs like that, how can she not play volleyball?"

"Didn't you just say, 'With legs like that, she has to be a-'"

His friend was cut short as his elbow sharply cut into his abdomen, digging until his previous words had retracted back between his teeth.

"Shut up."

Apollonia just stared at the ball in her hold, as if it were a newborn child, looking from the stitching to the college athletes standing in front of her with an expression beyond perplexed. After a while of silence, one of the girls sighed and drawled,

"Stray."

"Hella stray," the other agreed.

Still, the third woman—the only one who had actually shown her any sort of cordiality—placed her fist on her hip and slapped both of her cohorts with the back of her leathery brown hand.

"Shut it, let her play, we need another person to even out the teams. You see another six footer wearing pants anywhere?"

Apollonia assumed she was referring to the ration of people who were strolling around sans top, that or the women lounging around in little more than dental floss. The Finn, on the other hand, was wearing athletic tights paired with a simple black sports bra—for the foreigner merely had the intention to run along the sandy lines of the beach, not to indulge herself in a volleyball match with college students.

The beach was a comfortable place for Apollonia—not because she had any sort of kinship with the water or its various activities; but rather due to her joint issue. Though the sand had a bad reputation of causing injuries for athletes, the main reason why athlete's bodies reacted in such a manner was due to their incompetence in how to deal with the sand and it's foreign surface texture.

In all reality, the sand was Apollonia's best ally when considering her joint issues.

In line with the sand being soft, it protected Apollonia just as much as it strengthened her. Living in Kalajoki, she was a straight shot, a stone's throw from the nearest beach. And though it wasn't the most lavish beach like those in Helsinki, it sufficed for running, yoga, football,

And especially volleyball.

Playing in sand may have felt like she was playing in grainy pudding, but whenever Apollonia stepped off the sand and made her way back to concrete sidewalks and trails she felt light as a feather, as if she were floating, even flying across every other surface she encountered. It was freeing, it was exhilarating. Eventually, the feeling looped back around, and once she set foot on the sand, she could jump just as high and run just as fast as she once was only able to do on hard ground.

She didn't know many people back in Finland, at least, not anyone who would ask or willingly play beach volleyball with her. Finns mostly kept to themselves, at least with her experiences in Kalajoki, they did. Then again, maybe it's because the tallest girl she knew back home was one hundred and seventy centimeters, and deathly afraid of her. So the beach was her domain of solitude.

Having five college athletes propositioning her in terms of athletics thus was the most bizarre experience Apollonia had experienced.

"Hey, Amazon."

Her thoughts were interrupted by the taller of the two men, who was ushering her over to his side of the court. She took her place at his side, still holding the ball hesitantly in her grasp.

"Can you play," the boy asked.

"I really need to be going," Apollonia stated, unconsciously checking the intangible watch on her wrist.

"Just for a while," he offered, "We're really just warming up so we can practice our jumps."

Apollonia didn't seem all that enthused to stay, 'a while,' with their merry band of volleyball buffs speaking in their horrendous California code. The boy looked down at her, defeated.

"One serve," he said. Apollonia nodded.

"I'm Daniel. I'm a wing-spiker," he said before pointing a finger over to his friend on the opposite side of the net, "That's Anthony." Gesturing towards the cordial woman who appeared to be Anthony's partner, Daniel continued, "That's Abby." He pointed to the coon-eyed girl standing on the sidelines with her boisterous counterpart, "Over there is Sam and her yes-man, Evan. They're managers of our university's indoor team."

Now that Apollonia was standing so close to Daniel, the logo on his chest became apparent. 'Stanford,' it said in bold, red letters. That must have been why they were so keen on guessing her origins: they wanted to know if she was from a rival team. Realizing that his tepid stare towards her was in effort to get her to divulge her own name, Apollonia quickly straightened up.

"My name is Apollonia," she injected. "Apollonia Manner."

"I haven't heard of an Apollo on any teams in Cali, do you think she's out of state," Anthony questioned Abby, though merely received a hard slap on the arm.

"Jackass, she's right there, why don't you ask her yourself?"

"Hey, can we start already, damn," Daniel called over the net.

They turned over to Stanford's resident wing-spiker to see that he was already crouched and ready for play, Apollonia far in back with the ball ready for serving.

"She's starting pretty far back, you think she can make it," Anthony mumbled to the girl's indoor captain. Abby raised her sun-bleached eyebrows and tightened her knees, gesturing for Anthony to do the same.

"She's gonna jump serve it, be ready."

Daniel noted the sudden attention Abby and Anthony took, and glanced back at his partner in anticipation for her serve.

Though, when he looked back, he expected a menial serve from an adequate looking player.

He didn't expect for his head to recoil in awe.

She was a little farther back that he would usually serve, but had an effortless determination settling in her eyes, an ominous mist had clouded the powerful blue of her irises and seeped out of her sockets like vicious steam. The ball was thrown into the air, floating higher and higher until it met the climax of its rise. He expected Apollonia to let it fall slightly for better leverage, but in an instant, she was in the air: her back arched, her elbow cocked back like a loaded gun, the power shooting out of her barrel as she pulled the trigger, the ball shooting over the net like and landing flush between Anthony and Abby. The impact itself caused a flurry of sand to ascend as if a grenade had gone off under their feet, falling back down across their skin like debris from battlefield.

All five stood still in shock that the person they had initially assumed to be a south side stray had supplied them arguably the most terrifying serve they had seen since nationals, and on sand no less. With his mouth wide open in shock, Anthony managed a small stutter before calling,

"Hella South Side! Total Trojan!"

Apollonia raised her eyebrow to the odd colloquialism of California natives, shaking out the dim needle feeling that was occupying her wrist. She looked over to Daniel, finding it odd how he was staring at her as if she grew a second, even third head.

"Do you play for USC?"

Feeling similar aggravation she had when they first interrogated her, she quipped again,

"No."

"Where are you from, then?"

From the other side of the court, the two heard Anthony yell out, "She must be from Mars, brother!"

"Finland," Apollonia answered before leaning a little to the right to meet Anthony's line of vision, "Kalajoki, Finland," she responded a little louder for them to hear.

They retracted their necks in surprise: the damn girl wasn't even from America!

Immediately, they all ran up to her, the novelty of having a real life foreigner in their midst right in their hands. Abby placed her hands on her hips and asked,

"What are you doing in Cali, then?"

Apollonia immediately felt self-conscious that they had surrounded her, shrinking back as they enclosed on the walls around her.

"I wanted to come to America to learn your culture. I also wanted to learn gymnastics here."

"Then, why are you at the beach," Sam asked, lifting her shades onto the top of her head.

"I spent a month with a couple of high school girls who were training for the next round of Olympics. They were very inspiring," Apollonia deadpanned. "I came here to run and condition myself before I set off for Japan in a few weeks."

"JAPAN," Evan yelled.

"Damn, she's so cute saying all that shit in that accent," Sam quipped, leaning to the side on her hip.

"Why Japan," Daniel asked, his voice oddly high with curiosity.

Apollonia glanced around at the college students surrounding her, finding their fascination with her self-serving mission almost amusing, if not flattering.

"I've been all over the North, South and West. All that I have left is the East. I've found a nice location in the Miyagi region to settle. They have a beach just off the coast like here."

"So, you just kind of float around and play sports with foreigners," Anthony asked.

Apollonia shrugged, "I guess. Foreigners are fascinating when it comes to their athletics. You Americans are very interesting, you have the most free will when it comes to playing competitive sports, I was assuming that was why your country always performed so magnificently in the Olympics. But not only does your free will play in part with your talent, but you have the biggest fan base backing you, cheering you on. Even Finland cheers for the Americans when we watch the Summer Olympics. I wanted a chance to play against a true American."

"Can I record your voice before you leave," Sam chirped, fishing out her phone from her bag's pocket.

"That's some heavy shit, Finn," Anthony laughed.

"Man, I was hoping to recruit you for indoors," Abby sighed dejectedly, "that's a wicked arm, it could be almost legendary. How much longer are you here for?"

"Three weeks," Apollonia responded.

Daniel laughed and set his arm across her shoulder, shaking her playfully.

"That's enough time for you to teach us that bitchin' serve! What year are you? Soph, Senior, Fresh?"

Apollonia scrunched her brow slightly, unsure how to properly respond to Daniel's question.

"I'm fifteen," she finally said.

Daniel's eye went wide, and immediately he jerked his arm off from around her shoulders as if it had been set on fire.

"Shee-it," Anthony laughed as Daniel's face flushed dangerously, "_Mi-nor_," he sang.

Daniel took a few steps back before Abby stepped forwards and grabbed the Finn's hand. "Are you going to be back here tomorrow?"

Apollonia nodded weakly, eager to regain her sense of space far away from the California natives.

"Radical," she chirped, "see you at this same spot, same time. Next time we'll be prepared, Apollo!"

Apollonia nodded, slowly turning and taking off in a light jog as the five college students waved her off.

"That was a short game," Evan commented.

"It wasn't even a game," Sam quipped, "but it was hella something, alright."

"Too bad she's not staying in America," Daniel started, regaining a healthy color back to his face, "That girl would be a bad-ass Cardinal."

With his statement, he received a bony elbow to the ribs from the girl's captain.

"She's not a Cardinal," Abby said with a tone of finality.

Her teammates turned to gawk at her, staring at the fervid expression that had taken her leathery face.

"Did you see that wingspan," she challenged, gesturing with her arms just how wide Apollonia's arms could stretch, "those aren't the wings of a little bird like a Cardinal or Parakeet."

They looked on at Apollonia's retreating back: long, white and graceful, rippling with muscle too powerful and too sinewy to belong to a bird so menial, so common. When her arms had extended behind her, even from far away, Abby could see the thousand plumes of white downy feathers shoot from between her shoulder blades, the volatile energy flooding her body as it readied to take flight. When her arms had rose to heaven, it was as if a storm had engulfed her body, taking her high above them as her wing snapped back to meet its prey, smiting it down like fury of wind currents, like the vicious knives of spring air slicing through the leafless trees.

No, a power and grace like that does not belong to a Cardinal.

"Those are the wings of a Swan."

* * *

_Karasuno, One Year Before Storyline_

_"Apple-Senpai."_

* * *

"Good morning, Apollonia-chan."

She was reading, and did not even look up as he approached, so after standing next to her long enough for his classmates to start snickering, he tried to speak. Yet, when his voice finally penetrated her ears, she flinched, her eyes widening as if he had appeared from thin air as her attention turned towards him. She shook the look of surprise off her face and set her book down on her desk before standing up and offering Sagawara a deep bow.

The setter chuckled nervously and took a slight step back; trying to salvage whatever words he had prepared to say to Apollonia before she had gone and left him speechless. He shook his head and hands, assuring her that a simple good morning would suffice, and she did not have to bow so low that her head could probably touch her knees—because doing so would just embarrass Sugawara, and root an entire rumor mill regarding the nature of their relationship. Which, upon hearing the rising volume of his classmate's tittering behind him; it became apparent that his nightmare was quickly becoming a reality.

"Really, Apollonia-chan, 'Good Morning' will work just fine," he said for the third time in response to the Finn's perplexed expression.

"Good morning, Koushi."

Sugawara flinched and let out a strained grunt as the titters exploded into full-blown laughter, his face quickly igniting a furious pink. Trying to will himself back to the topic he had intended to discuss with Apollonia, Sugawara cleared his throat and grinned.

"Did you bring your volleyball gear?"

Her mouth thinned into what he assumed to be a forced grin—a gesture he guessed was intended to appease his extraordinarily chipper disposition—and nodded her head.

"I did. We will meet after school like yesterday?"

The manner of her speaking made it clear to the setter that Apollonia was trying to push herself away from her habitual one word responses, and make an effort to actually converse with the students at Karasuno.

In a way, it made Sugawara's smile widen: she was trying to do her best to feel comfortable, even if she was making a fool out of both of them.

"Definitely. We can get changed and then I'll show you the courts."

He made one last grin and nodded his head before turning to leave,

But oh, how fate loved to toy with him.

"Koushi?"

Oh goddamned it.

Sugawara furiously ignored the onslaught of chuckles assaulting his ears from those around him and turned back to the Finn.

"Yes, Apollonia-chan?"

She was still standing, though leaning onto the book atop her desk as it such a tiny pamphlet would offer her support, her face suddenly unsure and tense.

"May I partake in lunch with you, again?"

The mere fact that she said, 'May I,' as well as, 'partake' was enough to fluster Sugawara, but due to the fact that she was requesting his companionship, and willingly talking to him for the third day in a row, it was a wonder that the setter was even able to stand. Noting that his face was turning conflicting shades of blue and red from holding his breath, Sugawara took in a sharp wind.

"O-of course," he finally said with a wavering tone.

She nodded, offering him another tense-mouth smile before she turned and sat in her seat, returning to her reading.

Sugawara took his place across the room at his own desk, before slumping down in his seat. Never before had the road back to his desk felt so long.

Never before had his heart pounded this hard.

…

"Hey, mister."

Apollonia stopped in her tracks.

She was on her way to the volleyball courts once she reunited with Sugawara; but when the brusque sound of a male's voice had announced itself behind her, her athletic shoes had skidded against the concrete walkaway until her footsteps turned into stumbles until they finally ceased completely.

She turned around, though was a bit surprised that she had to look down at about a ninety degree angle to meet the person who had called out to her.

He was a puny thing in every sense of the word: little shoulders, thin legs, arms comparable to toothpicks, but a full childish face and hair that looked like it had been blown back by a jet engine, with a small tuft of blonde tickling the center of his brow. He looked up at her as if trying to gaze upon the top of a tree.

"Are you going to the volleyball courts?"

He gestured to her athletic regalia: the students of Stanford had been kind enough to pack up a complimentary sweatshirt and pair of spandex shorts with the university's logo displayed on the side before Apollonia had left California. And needless to say, it was her outfit of choice when indulging in volleyball. She accented the uniform with her own form of injury protection: thigh high compression stockings, knee-pads, elbow pads, and curiously, bandages on her right arm that wrapped all the way up to her bicep.

The boy himself was dressed haphazardly in athletic gear of his own: personalized with what Apollonia assumed to be a flamboyant Japanese phrase or something of the sort on the shirt, and black pads that engulfed his tiny little kneecaps.

Apollonia just stared at him.

He was so… small, like a little bird, barely big enough to fit in the palm of her hand.

It was… _endearing_.

Apollonia could feel her famous Finnish stoicism fading quickly, immediately tensing up in effort to keep the color of her skin the healthy peach it had always been, her mouth turning into a straight rigid line.

"Yes," she finally responded.

Much to the misfortune of her pitter-pattering heart, the unbearably short boy beamed like a goddamned lighthouse, tucking his fists into his pockets and jumping to her side.

"Good, that's the place I'm looking for! I'll join you, Shiro-kun!"

Apollonia had meant to inform him that she herself—was not only a woman, and her name was not 'White,' despite her flamboyantly Finnish genetics wreaking havoc on her hair color—did not know where the volleyball courts were herself, and that she was looking for a certain taupe-haired second year to lead the way.

"Apollonia-chan!"

Speak of the devil.

"Ah, Koushi."

Apollonia turned towards the approaching second year, who looked the least out of place wearing an authentic Karasuno volleyball uniform and jacket. The boy beside Apollonia was absolutely fawning over seeing a real life Karasuno uniform merely centimeters from him. The stars in his eyes had exploded in a violent supernova, setting his sclera on fire as he bounded towards Sugawara.

"SENPAI," the first year yelled, bowing to the point that he almost threw himself on the ground. "I am first year Nishinoya Yuu! I swear to prove myself to you and the team!"

_Yuu?_

Apollonia sucked her lips back behind her teeth.

God, even his name was… _endearing_.

Sugawara laughed, scratching his temple as Nishinoya rose back to his feet—which greatly appeased the setter, considering he was one of the only volleyball rookies that he was taller than. He bowed slightly and looked down at the first year with expectancy.

"Nishinoya? You must be that sign up from Chidoriyama. We saw your match last year, your receives are quite advanced for your age."

Nishinoya took a step back, holding the fabric over his heart as if it would bust from his chest.

"Senpai, thank you," he cried with fists raised in gratitude, tears rolling down his face.

Sugawara laughed bashfully, placing his hand at the back of his head. "You can just call me Sugawara if you'd like," he offered. Nishinoya's eyes went wide, his smile growing even brighter.

"Right, Suga-san!"

Sugawara smiled, a little flustered and taken back that no one anymore seemed to use proper addressing etiquette, and turned his attention back to the dumbstruck Finn behind Nishinoya.

"Ready to go, Apollonia-chan?"

Apollonia nodded, though when she made to move, Nishinoya had spun around back to her, staring at her with an expression crossed between confusion and amazement. He stuck his neck out, circling around Apollonia like a young lion cub trying to size up a gazelle ten times his size.

"Your name is… _Apple_?"

Nishinoya puckered his lips and cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger.

"Apple… _Nee_-ah?"

Suguwara's eyes shot open.

No no no no NO.

_NO_.

Nishinoya tested the different sounds and pronunciations of Apollonia's strange, foreign name; as if he were taste each letter individually until it fit his own dialect.

"Ap-ple-Nee? Apple-Nee-chan? Apple-Nee-chan!" Nishinoya placed his fist into his open palm, saying her name—rather, nickname—with such enthusiasm as if he had just conquered the tallest mountains in Japan. Once the realization hit him of what exactly he was implying of Apollonia, he went oddly silent, fist still in hand.

Apollonia on the other hand, already inwardly battling herself, trying not to just run over and pick the boy up under his arms like a goddamned child, had gone positively red in the face, her eyes wide and trembling. She bit into the back of her hand and was leaning back, and looked to be quickly losing all feeling in her buckling legs.

"Apollonia-chan," Sugawara yelled, running behind the Finn in effort to support her by grabbing onto her shoulders, steadying her back into a semi-normal standing position, though Apollonia had altogether gone slack, and was more of a limp noddle in Sugawara's grip. The setter cried out in distress as he tried to lift a woman fairly taller and heavier than himself back onto her feet, her head slung back over his shoulder, her arms useless as Sugawara tried to lace his own around her. It ended up looking like a crude wrestling position, and Apollonia showed no sign of stoic consciousness as the red in her face only deepened.

"Big… Sister… Apple," she groaned, steam rising off her face so hot, that sweat was beginning to condense on Sugawara's neck.

Nishinoya just cocked his head at the bizarre display both of his senpais were exhibiting.

"Hang in there, Apollonia-chan," Sugawara cried out.

Nishinoya stood there, a small humming going off in his head as he watched Sugawara bring Apollonia back to her feet, though he stood by dutifully as she held onto her knees for support, trying her best to hide her flushing face under her ivory fringe.

Then it hit him.

"I see!"

Sugawara jolted in surprise, seeing Nishinoya with one hand on his hip while the other was pointed directly at a breathless Apollonia.

"Apple-senpai is a woman!"

…

A first year that looked like he stuck his little finger in an electrical socket was able to reduce a tall, stone-faced beanstalk like Apollonia to a pile of flustered, blushing mush.

The fact that such an event even happen still left Sugawara speechless. He glanced over to Apollonia in his peripheral: her stoic, high necked stature back in full force, her emotions as composed as ever as she strolled leisurely alongside him with long-legged strides. Nishinoya skipped behind them, humming as if the situation never even occurred, that or he was not the least bit affected that however long he spent conversing with Apollonia, he was under the impression that she was a man. Either way, he had firmly glued himself to the name, 'Apple,' when trying to gain the Finn's attention—which upon realizing that the consequences of his actions only manifested as Apollonia blushing and staring at him wide-eyed—he became quite fond of butchering the girl's title.

"Apple-san," he said again.

Apollonia did her best to hide the flattery she felt imparted by the pitifully small Nishinoya, though her scrunched mouth gave her away as she suppressed a powerful urge to grin like an idiot.

"Yes, Yuu?"

Despite the fact that Nishinoya had skillfully reduced Apollonia to an embarrassed mess, she had unknowingly done the same by forgoing formalities just as she had done with him—outright calling him by his first name without any decorum.

Nishinoya, in response, too flushed and grunted in surprise every time she answered, tensing himself high as if he were trying to grow ten more centimeters by sheer will. He shook his head and sprung up next to the towering Finn.

"Where are you from, again?"

"Finland," she answered, her yodeling-sort of accent shining through as she stated the moniker of her homeland. "I used to live near the coast, by the ocean. Much like here."

"Sugoi-i-i," Nishinoya chirped, bringing his fists back up into an energized gesture.

"That must be where all those big, scary guys ride eagles and capture villages, right?"

The ever, deadpan specialist, Apollonia cracked the slightest by snorting—a crude effort to suppress a laugh.

"Are you thinking of Vikings," she inquired, though received little more than a shrug from Nishinoya, who sped ahead of them and crouched down into what looked like an amateur imitation of a B-grade ninja stand in. He held his hands up, cupped and curled, with one leg lifted out in front of him. He made an odd noise in the back of his throat before kicking his other leg out from underneath him, punching the air and crying out with a loud, "HWAH!"

This time, Apollonia threw out composure and laughed closed mouthed with a strained frown, covering the bottom part of her face in order to protect her Finnish dignity. Sugawara seemed pleased that Apollonia was making herself comfortable with them, and laughed along too. Nishinoya straightened up; smile spanning both cheeks, and chirped,

"Apple-san, since you're in Japan, you should learn ninjitsu!"

He haphazardly performed a few flips and roll, springing back up on both legs like a wind up toy, grunting and yelling with each punch and jab.

"I assume you will be the one teaching me, Yuu," Apollonia questioned humorously, though as straight-faced as ever. Nishinoya placed his hand on his hip and whipped his other by his forehead as if to say, 'Scouts Honor.'

"You can bet on it," he called, crouching back down into a predatory position.

Sugawara laughed.

Apollonia inwardly grinned.

They walked a little further, both second years patting Nishinoya's unruly tangled mane as they passed by, before returning to their uniform strides. Nishinoya took his place behind them, before Sugawara had ushered them to a stop.

"We're here," he said.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_Welp, here's the second chapter, in which she gets to meet the lovable Nishinoya._

_I wanted to give a bit of her background from when she was in California to sort of inject that notion of Apollonia as a 'swan.' Fun fact: the bird of Finland is the Great Whopper Swan, which is known as a strong flier as well as a beautifully shaped bird._

_More on that later._

_Also, pardon the California slang, I have friends who talk similar to this, but pushed the flamboyance of it for the purpose of polarizing California and Japan. (Ripper is essentially Cali for, 'slut,' just to mention, if it wasn't obvious.) Just to let Abby and Daniel's short conversation be known: the Stanford's mascot is the Cardinal, which was why they were comparing her to one in the first place._

_As for the second half..._

_As well, it seems that Apollonia has a shota-complex of some sort, for Nishinoya at least. __We'll just let that simmer for a while._

_Next chapter, Apollonia shall come face to face with dreaded third years. But with a dutiful Libero like Nishinoya and a skilled Setter like Sugawara, Apollonia shall make her debut and everyone will know why back in her homeland, she bore the moniker, "The Flying Finn!"_

_Thank you and good night!_

_**EDIT**: I have created a tumblr blog dedicated to this character, so feel free to check it out to see what Apollonia looks like drawn!_

_( )bergliot-manner.(tumblr).com_

_Just take away the parenthesis and it should work, or just search for me on tumblr!_


	3. The Swan within the Tree

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_Sugawara laughed._

_Apollonia inwardly grinned._

_They walked a little further, both second years patting Nishinoya's unruly tangled mane as they passed by, before returning to their uniform strides. Nishinoya took his place behind them, before Sugawara had ushered them to a stop._

_"We're here," he said._

* * *

_Kalajoki, Finland 5 Years Before Storyline_

_"Mother Tree. Father Swan."_

* * *

If her ghastly white hair, or her gangly frame, or even her mannish face were not enough, she just had to be a walking giant among the army of dwarves at her feet. A young lady of thirteen years, Apollonia still managed to stun her classmates by towering over each and every one of them at the heinous stature of one hundred and seventy centimeters while the girls of her year barely set a finger on one hundred and sixty. She was well off, considering her father engulfed himself in his work at Finland's International Airport, Finnair, and her mother was a hard-nosed professor at the University of Oulu.

With a degree in Accounting and Finance, saying that Apollonia's mother was a little frugal and a bit of a neurotic would be a drastic understatement. Even at such a young age, Apollonia's mother, Virpi was a tall, slim woman with bone straight sandalwood hair, and hard blue eyes. She had taught her how to balance her checkbook, and make spreadsheets depicting how the family's money was being divided when purchasing groceries, utilities, luxuries, her summer break travels, everything. Needless to say, after seeing just how much her mother and father were shelling out not only for her trips to varying countries, but also saving for her college of choice, Apollonia seldom asked for luxuries such as new clothes or the latest technology.

As well, due to her father's affiliation with multiple countries, The Finn was constantly bombarded with stories of varying cultures and accents every time her father went on a business trip. Her father, Svane was an elegant man with alabaster hair and shallow brown eyes, and though Apollonia seldom saw her father face-to-face, she was very much aware of her likeness with the man. In their home in Kalajoki, photos of her father running and jumping at numerous track meets littered their walls, from both High School and College. One photo even depicted him and his legion of fans holding a wide, cloth banner that read, 'Long Live the Flying Finn.' His love for sports had been passed down to her generation, though she did not exactly follow her father's route and gain national recognition for her athletic accomplishments.

Virpi's unfortunate fragility had been passed down to Apollonia: being statuesque had its downfalls as most women in her family contracted premature symptoms, such as joint discomfort, nerve discomfort, violent bouts of pain from over usage during physical activity. It first became apparent when Apollonia first tried out for the track team at her middle school: she took off sprinting so that the coaches could base an exercise routine based on her skill level, but were shell-shocked when the sinewy Finn fell to the turf after a mere two hundred meters, clutching her knee as if the bone had exploded from her skin.

After a tumultuous visit to the hospital—her mother doubled over at her daughter's side as they reset and wrapped her knee, her father calling every hour on the hour to ensure that she'd be all right—the doctors informed Virpi and Svane that Apollonia was at risk for bone fractures among other sports injuries due to her mother's long ancestry of premature osteoporosis, as well as arthritis. She was advised to avoid competitive sports, or at least take extra precautions when indulging in vigorous physical activity.

Svane was understandably disheartened, even a little frustrated that his athletically gifted child probably would not don the moniker, 'Flying Finn' as he once did. Virpi, however, was quite the opposite of her husband. Due to suffering from joint pain herself, she taught Apollonia ways to minimize her pain—taking part in yoga, indulging in aromatherapy, the magic of menthol rub—everything to help Apollonia function without having to worry about aches and pains just from shrugging her shoulders. Virpi's alternative medicine, plus her father's unnatural tolerance for pain eventually led Apollonia to gain the courage to take part in athletics merely months later—though not exactly club activities.

Often, when she was resting, she'd indulge in international sports, watching Brazil dominate the realms of soccer, America demolish their competition at the summer Olympics, and of course, she was part of the Nordic bandwagon whenever they flexed their muscles in winter events.

'Äiti,' she would politely say to her mother, 'has Isä ever ran with Kenyans?'

Virpi inquired what would prompt such a question from her daughter, leading Apollonia to explain that after watching the New York Marathon, and the multitude of Kenyans demolishing the competition, she had to wonder if her prodigious father ever took along their side to learn their running culture.

Virpi responded that her father did in fact watch Kenyans compete, but never actually found logic in flying to the African continent to run with them.

'I think I'd like to run with a Kenyan,' Apollonia said, which earned her mother's hand flush against her forehead, as she assumed Apollonia was suffering from feverish delusions. Apollonia brushed her mother's hand away and prodded, 'I'd like to play rugby with the Australians, and learn gymnastics from the Americans.'

Virpi shook her head, wondering just how strong the medication issued by the doctor was, but Apollonia pressed on, eventually wearing down her mother, who allowed her father to indulge in her daughter's desire to expand culturally.

'She wants to travel,' her father inquired, a bit brighter than usual. Perhaps he was somewhat delighted that she wanted to try her hand in athletics once again, though her approach was not exactly conventional. So he did what any father who was skillfully wrapped around his only daughter's finger: he bade Apollonia's wishes to travel continent to continent—though not without laying a few ground rules of course.

First, she was to keep her grades in tiptop shape, placing nothing less than top five percent of her school, and ensuring that no matter where she settled, she would flourish in college. Second, she was not to be ignorant when traveling—she would have to fervently study the customs of the lands she visited, even if she were just staying there for but a day—she would have to learn as much of the language as she could, grammar included, and avoid any faux pas if she could help it.

Still, Apollonia was human, and had to excuse herself when she mistakenly ate the salad in front of her before her main course—which was apparently a sort of misstep in France, as was not announcing one's self when they walked into a room.

Thus began the tradition she set for herself, traveling abroad to walk, run and jump alongside fellow athletes from varying cultures and ethnicities, learning from them what ignited their passion to play their own personal sport.

It was intoxicating, in a sense, to learn what drove people to play what they played, what ignited their passions. Far and wide did she travel, and the more she learned what inspired people, the more she became inspired to find her own motivation.

She became quite the novelty among the countries she visited, dubbed from everything from 'Snow White,' to, 'Finny,' to even the simple and short, 'Legs.' It was flattering, being so highly regarded by those of other countries.

She met a group of young Kenyans, who ran miles around their village every day in hopes of sweeping not only Ney York, but the Boston Marathon as well. She was enamored by a band of Private School students who were well known for their tenacity playing rugby in Australia. The motley crew of Brazilian youths were free-spirited and wild, they were the ones in fact who gifted her the name, 'Legs,' much to Apollonia's chagrin.

Still even with all of the hype she experienced in foreign countries, when she returned to Finland, she was the same, statuesque, stoic, stone-faced bore that all her classmates came to semi-regard. They looked at her with questioned side-glances, finding her studious personality grey and formless, her cultural intrigue indulgent and privileged when most of their families worked hard in timber mills and manufacturing just to save for future schooling.

Needless to say, the tedious habit of studying until her eyes turned red paired with the odd myriad of cultural influence taking root in Apollonia made for quite an intellectual, but antisocial individual. Not that her disposition as being socially withdrawn was entirely forced upon her though; her unorthodox upbringing, her height, and androgynous face may have played a large role in other students avoiding her, but it was not as if she really wanted their company in the first place.

Apollonia may have been well off, but that did not mean she shirked the value of hard work. She desired to gain a degree in sport's medicine—thus fervently studied medical terminology and practices—and during the weekends, she assisted her mother in grading papers, and filing paperwork. She had her hand in her father's work as well, learning how businessmen from other countries acted, and how they spoke. In truth, she would have rather spent her free time studying and entrenching herself in the work of her parents rather than fake interest in things such as whether or not a boy from her class looked her way or not.

It was a no-brainer when her parents offered her the option to stay a year in America her first year of high school to learn gymnastics. She frequently emailed them and called them with information regarding her stay. They were more than happy to hear that their young swan was flourishing so well in California, though a little perplexed when she requested the opportunity to attend a school in Japan. Apollonia apparently had conversed with a Californian of her 'mission,' and said native had pointed out that Apollonia had not yet experienced any sort of martial arts, and that somewhere far East would suit her well. Thus, Apollonia closed her eyes, and pointed to a prefecture in Japan—Miyagi of all places.

Her parents were understandably apprehensive, but when Apollonia finished her first year with a perfect GPA in all honors classes, it was hard to say 'no.'

So, before she set off to Japan, she was already one hundred and eighty centimeters tall, and her father could not be more proud. Her mother traveled all the way to America just to trim her gamine haircut, and slick it back like and elegant feathered headdress. She had her boarding bag slung over her shoulder, a suitcase in tow, and a copy of the housing address where she would be staying for her second year of high school.

There she stood, waiting for her seats to be called, her legs firm with resolve as she strode down the corridor. As she slung her bag over her shoulder, she looked down at the note that her father had sent to her before her departure.

She held the letter over her chest, and exhaled slowly.

Her neck bowed and her wings spread, Apollonia retracted her twining roots and set off for Japan.

'_All that I am, I am because of my mind._'

* * *

_Karasuno High School, One Year Before Storyline_

_"Karasuno's Swan."_

* * *

"So, you've brought us a shorty, and a walking stick."

Said shorty and stick both looked at each other, Apollonia bringing her hand up to gesture that Nishinoya was in fact the short one, while Nishinoya proceeded to point accusingly to Apollonia's gangly wrist to gesture that she was in fact the walking stick. The third years crossed their arms and shook their heads.

"What a catch, Sugawara-kun."

The volleyball seniors were… coarse, to say the least, and did not fare any delicacy when it came to newcomers—an unfortunate after effect of training Spartan style with their… loveable coach.

Still, Apollonia proved true to form by showing nary a negative reaction to their insult, though Nishinoya showed enough gusto for both of them as he bounced up and down, threatening each and every third year to a match, even if it meant that he had to play the entire team by himself.

So in response, the third years challenged the first and second year to a three on three match: if they could win even one game against their best blocker, their smartest setter, and strongest spiker, then they would induct the two, no questions asked. Since Sugawara was ultimately the one who brought these two misfits into their midst, he would be responsible for them, serving as their resident setter. Sugawara couldn't say that he was exactly happy of course, to be playing his elders with a Finn and vertically challenged first year: for one, he was disturbed that even the third years had mistaken Apollonia as a man, but what really took it for him was that Apollonia didn't even seem affected.

In fact… she looked pleased.

There was a certain glow lingering in her stare, a sort of frigid warmth refracted in her metallic eyes that almost looked painful to touch. She may not have been out loud with her enthusiasm as Nishinoya had, but her demeanor was anything but grey. Her neck was slightly arched forwards, the veins along her jugular springing from her skin, like a swan bowing before the attack, before she spread her mighty feathers to their fullest wingspan and took off towards her adversaries.

Despite the unwavering expression on her face, and her unchanging appearance, it was almost as if Apollonia had completely switched personalities. That, or her true form was taking root, however clichéd it sounded.

Either way, she was staring down the third years, eerily composed, but undoubtedly ready to take each attack head on.

If it had not been such a beguiling sight to behold, Sugawara would have been terrified just by the look in her eye.

"Uh, Apollonia-chan?"

Her shoulders were still squared towards the third years, but she spared a glance from under the white billows of her eyelashes.

"You can spike, right?"

She nodded.

"Good," Sugawara said with a relieved grin, "I swear, I'll do my best to give you a great toss!"

Her face had cracked the slightest, the serrated glass edges softening as she fully looked Sugwara in the eye.

"Do not be concerned with that," she said firmly, though quietly, "toss it wherever you like, and I will follow it. Just make it high."

Sugawara flinched, honestly a bit stunned by her proclamation. She had openly said that she would hit anything he threw at her, and though it was marked by an underlying self-confidence, the imminent trust that she had placed in him and his setting prowess nearly staggered Sugawara. He was shaken from his thoughts as he watched Apollonia take her place at the back corner of the court to serve. He glanced over the Nishinoya, who was springing side to side on the balls of his feet with his knees crouched and ready for play. Sugawara grinned.

"I guess that means you'll take your place as our Defensive Specialist," he intoned expectantly. Nishinoya grunted and bared his teeth in a wide grin.

"You can count on me," he chirped.

With that, Sugawara lowered himself, readying for the serve.

…

"Shit."

They watched as she stepped far back for an obvious jump serve, alert and ready to cover their vulnerable corners. They watched as her stride led her forwards, like a blade across ice, and threw the ball into the air. They watched as she leapt into the air.

And they watched as the alabaster wings tore through her cotton sweatshirt, flexing as they stretched from wall to wall, taking her higher than they had seen from any jump serve. She landed clumsily, though powerfully, the muscles in her thighs vibrating as they braced for the impact.

It came down like a missile from the sky, her serve, like a plane crashing through the stratosphere as it was set aflame and collided with the ground. It whipped back the hair of two third years as it sailed in between them, the sound of synthetic leather meeting the court floor with a deafening thump. The third years gawked at the ball as if it would spontaneously combust—and seemed surprised that it hadn't done so already.

Sugawara straightened up as he turned around Apollonia, who wasn't even paying attention to the awestruck third, but tightening the bandages around her wrist, shaking it out as she flexed her fingers. When she looked back up, she recoiled her head, and scrunched her mouth into a tight frown.

"What?"

Nishinoya lurched up to her, his mouth dropped open. He fruitlessly pawed at her arm, trying to get a holding on her elbow, though kept misjudging just how far she was from him. He stumbled forwards a little more, taking a firm grip on her forearm.

"Ap-pple-sa-am-m-a," he groaned, before nearly falling to his knees, still a firm grip on Apollonia's arm. She was leaning down awkwardly, trying to hold his weight while keeping herself stable. Finally, he let go and fell to the floor, holding his hands up in prayer with his head bowed to her.

"I will do my best, senpai," he howled, "Please believe in me as well!"

Apollonia glanced over towards Sugawara as if to say, '_How do I deal with this_?' But, Sugawara already had his head hanging in his hand that he was completely alone with a scene-making Libero and socially inept foreigner in his possession, and he did not even having Daichi—who was always so sure of himself—to handle what he likened to a pair of flustered children.

He looked back up to see Apollonia crouched down in front of Nishinoya, awkwardly patting his back with a spread palm, as if she were afraid to actually touch him, saying something along the lines of, 'I believe in you. Please stand up. Please stop crying.'

Nishinoya responded favorably and sprung to his feet, helping up a deer-legged Apollonia as she pulled her compression sock back up over her thigh. Nishinoya held his hands up to regain her attention, palms open and inviting as he leaned from leg to leg, still trembling with excitement. At first, Apollonia did not appear to know the proper, 'Japanese,' way of responding, searching again for answers from Sugawara. The setter laughed and held his own hands up, as if to say, '_It's a high five, Apollonia-chan, surely they have those in Finland too._' Apollonia appeared to have read the thoughts spanning his mind as she raised a thin eyebrow and returned Nishinoya's gesture.

The young libero leaped up into the air, whooping and hollering as he turned back to the third years—who by now, had gone from awestruck to perplexed after watching the dynamics between Nishinoya and Apollonia—and pointed a finger to them.

"One point! We'll take our jackets now!"

Apollonia and Sugawara smacked their heads respectively.

"Nishinoya-kun, the wager was one game," Sugawara quietly corrected.

The Libero stopped as if the realization had manifested and hit him straight between the eyes. Though he did not seem discouraged, rather, he seemed even more enthusiastic than before.

"Good then, I'm just getting started!"

He turned to his two teammates, smile wide and animated.

"Apple-san, Suga-san, we can do it!"

The two nodded.

"OSU!"

…

It was like a sixty-story building was crushing her, the unbearable pressure imparted by the gravity of the universe sucking her strength from the inside out. The bandages on her arm had burned off, curling around her wrist like a python set on fire, squeezing her until her entire arm was scorched in agony. She could feel the muscles in her body twitching, cautioning her of her actions, and threatening to fail if she proceeded any longer. Had she the gumption, her entire body would have been trembling under the spectrum of pain flushing through her veins, every color and hue of unsavory sensation plowing through her like a speeding train.

She was holding her knees—alert, but heavier than she was near the beginning of the match—and profusely sweating from her brow. Sugawara and Nishinoya were no better, as the third years proved more to be more than friendly adversaries as they fully realized what sort of team they were up against.

Each player individually was formidable in his or her own right: Nishinoya seemed to have vastly improved within a mere year, his receives swifter and cleaner than his performance in Middle School. Sugawara was already a prodigious setter, hardworking and passionate to please his teammates and ensure that they did their best, which efficiently frustrated the senior setter that a young blood was quickly shadowing his throne. Apollonia herself was a force to be reckoned with, she came in like a flurry of wind and rain, her wings pulsing violent currents the moment her toes left the ground, and when her palm met the ball.

Ordinarily, people with such extraordinary talent flourish independently, but when paired together, their specialties do not accent—or compliment—one another as effectively as people may think. But these three, these two scrawny boys and a girl from Finland, worked together as if they had been attached at the hip since elementary school. Cumulatively, the three of them probably spoke at the most four sentences to one another prior to the match, yet their teamwork was almost as fluid as the third years they were currently playing.

With but a glance of their eyes and twitch of their bodies, they efficiently communicated their prospective movements to one another, barely having to utter more than, 'Toss,' and 'Got it!'

Nishinoya was panting heavily, struggling to make all of his receives as they soared over the net. Sugawara was sweating through his uniform, leaning over a little more sluggishly than he intended to show. Yet they still stood strong, unyielding like a rooted tree, with branches reaching far and wide as they scrounged for the ball. They needed but one point, and the match would be theirs. Though the outcome of the match would not directly affect Apollonia—considering since she was a woman, and did not have the tolerance for competitive sports—once she made her gender known to the seniors, she would just bow her head respectfully, thank the for the match and be on her way back to the track.

But the look in Sugawara and Nishinoya's eyes—it was enthralling. Sugawara was already a member of the team, but the passion that he bore for the both of them was flattering. He was giving his all as a setter just so that Nishinoya and herself could perform their best. Nishinoya was so desperate to prove that he was worth his weight in gold—and then some. They were radiant, it was almost otherworldly their spirit. It didn't matter if her fate regarding the volleyball club relied on the match's outcome, it didn't even matter that it was Nishinoya's fate that relied on the match.

What mattered was that not even a week had she spent in Japan and she already felt a powerful branch connecting her with these two scrawny natives. They were so invigorated, so refreshing, more so than any other culture she had experiences. Their energy inspired her, and she wanted to do her best to inspire them, to please them, to help them soar higher than any tree or bird.

Her body was crumbling in on itself like a disintegrating building, her walls caving in as every muscle fiber, every joint feeling as though they would either snap or explode if she moved another inch. Every twitch was a solid shock to her body, tearing her down muscle fiber by muscle fiber, bone tissue by bone tissue.

But she had to be strong, no matter how much it hurt, she had to be strong.

For Sugawara, for Nishinoya, for her parents, and for herself. If they could stand tall with fire still igniting their actions, then she surely could do the same.

Apollonia exhaled.

Her wings flexed between her shoulder blades, relaxing her muscles and flushing the poison from her body.

Sugawara had tossed the ball high into the air, and at first Apollonia had mused if his toss had been too high, but as she looked to the side to see his exuberant face—how proud he was of all of them, how much he trusted her and believed in her—Apollonia back stepped for a slight running start, and with all her might,

She flew.

…

Everything was like a blurred droning in her ears, everything was clogged with sweat and she heard murmuring she couldn't adequately identify. But she was content—though her face was straight and stern—she was content. Sugawara was congratulating the both of them, and Nishinoya couldn't have looked more pleased with himself. She was stifling the trembling in her arms, and the weak, wet paper feeling in her legs, somehow being able to stand strong by their happiness alone.

The third years were discussing amongst themselves what to make of the two—the tree of them as a team and how they would affect the dynamics of the formation during matches. Apollonia couldn't make out their covered words, nor did she really care to as Nishinoya took it upon himself to grapple onto her back like a crawling monkey. She nearly broke in two as she leaned back to accommodate his weight, hooking his sweaty legs in the crook of her arms to stabilize the both of them.

Sugawara seemed to be laughing at the whole ordeal, though his voice seemed miles away, his movements becoming sluggish and fuzzy. She could hear her own breathing: it was loud, and impolite, low and hard like a dog. She let Nishinoya slide down her back, until she could feel him stand firmly behind her, his arms wrapped firmly around her hips as he squeezed the life out of her. She looked up at Sugawara, who was now scrutinizing her with a concerned expression. She could hear his voice, or what she thought was his voice, and he was turning her around towards the bathrooms. She must have shied away from the pain inflicted by his simple touch, for he was lightly hovering over her, but not actually touching her.

Her path was hazy, but somehow the walls had changed colors around her, and she found herself in what looked like a community washroom. Somehow she found herself on the floor, her arms were shaking, her entire body shivering. She looked over to the side to see that Sugawara was no longer at her side, but an ethereal looking young girl with lavish black hair and blue eyes more saturated than her own. She wore a simple tracksuit, and was looking over Apollonia with a stoic expression.

She felt her forehead, and wiped the sweat from her brow, and went to grab one of Apollonia's wrists, but the Finn jerked her hand away when a sharp stab jolted through her hand. The girl looked at her for a moment, before sitting down next to her leaning against the lockers as Apollonia was. Apollonia regarded her with a wary stare, but remained calm, despite her labored breathing.

"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard."

Her voice was as sweet as it was stern, and yet demure all at the same time. Apollonia glanced over at her, still breathing heavily, though somewhat easier as the girl conversed with her.

"You're the new girl, aren't you? The foreign one?"

Apollonia nodded slowly, her breathing stabilizing as she straightened up.

"Apollonia Manner," she said evenly. The girl nodded her head respectfully and leaned back against the lockers.

"I'm Shimizu Kiyoko," she said. Apollonia as well nodded her head respectfully in response.

"I'm the manager," Kiyoko clarified. Apollonia just looked at her for a moment before turning her head up towards the ceiling: it was cracked and bleak, the ridges and breaks in the plaster almost parallel to the horrid sensations in her body. She tried to stretch out her muscles lightly to ease the pain, grunting here and there when her arm would over extend, when her leg would bend a way it did not wish to bend.

"He speaks very highly of you," Kiyoko mentioned suddenly.

Apollonia flinched briefly, turning her head full direction towards Kiyoko.

"Koushi," she inquired. Kiyoko looked to be taken back by her casual address, her informalities almost a shock to her, though her expression quickly diluted back to its stoic hue as she nodded in confirmation.

"He said he would try to sit you in on a match. I guess he didn't intend on getting you involved in one, or for it to go this far."

"It wasn't my intention to last this long," the Finn countered, "as well, I did not intend to collapse."

Kiyoko nodded, but did not utter a word.

"I'm sorry for my display," Apollonia began politely, "It was discourteous of me to react like that when everyone else is so happy."

Kiyoko almost looked at the Finn as if she didn't know how to respond to such an attitude, and settled for saying nothing at all, instead taking a deep breath in and out through her petite nose. Apollonia was still: her heartbeat had regulated, her arms had stopped shaking, and she seemed to be a fair bit more conscious than she was before.

"I do not wish to worry him," Apollonia started, "I only wish to help him. Both of them."

Kiyoko looked over at the foreigner, slightly surprised, though well hidden by her straight face.

"Why would you want to do that?"

Apollonia admittedly had many reasons to do so; and in an odd way, both she a Kiyoko were alike: Kiyoko wanted to do her best so that her boys may do theirs, rooting them on, calculating their improving skills, watching them as their wings tethered to a fro as they yearned to reach higher and higher into the sky. She was meant to stand on the sidelines, as a bystander at the park or in a field, watching nature at its finest as they battled for greatness.

Apollonia on the other hand, was born to stand before them, feathers turned to their faces, her white wings bared. They would look upon her long, languid back, her wide wingspan, and the majesty that was a swan's powerful flight. She would serve as the apex to their formation in the sky, the lone alabaster beacon of light leading their way through the wind and over the trees. Even with a body broken and withering fast, she still would flap relentlessly to lead them towards greatness, wherever greatness may lie.

While one would stand in the field, the other would take the sky, yet as Apollonia looked over at Kiyoko, they shared a mutual understanding.

Her body stung, her wings retracted for now, and for the time being, she rooted herself alongside Kiyoko.

She was but a gangly Finnish woman from a far off land, and had nothing to do with the people or events that she had experienced that afternoon. She was but another breathing body, another woman, and another athlete without a face, without wings.

But still beneath her body, beneath all of the aches and pains, beneath the hearty bark of her trunk lie a swan, and wingspan that would lead whomever may follow.

Apollonia sighed.

_'All that I am, I am because of my mind._'

* * *

_Omake_

* * *

She walked out of the bathroom, Kiyoko at her side, only to see the entirety of the third years standing in a perfect line down the court. Their faces were beet red, their arms flush at their side. They didn't want to look her in the eye directly, instead staring at their shoes as if they could drill holes in the ground beneath their feet in effort to escape the situation they had unfortunately found themselves in. They looked unnervingly bashful, and it need no explanation what they were suddenly so flustered about: Sugawara and Nishinoya stood off to the side, silently chuckling and waving to a bemused Apollonia as the team captain strode up to her and bowed as low as he could muster.

He cleared his throat loudly, before uttering, "Our sincerest apologizes, Apollonia-san. If there is anything that any of us may do for you, please, do not hesitate to ask."

The entire team made a grunt of agreement, followed by a quick proclamation of what Apollonia assumed to be in a repentant fashion, and a low, unified bow as well.

Apollonia just stood there, red-faced and confused. She turned to Kiyoko and asked, "Do I bow back?"

Oddly, Kiyoko offered the girl a small grin and chuckled quietly.

"No," she said,

"Not at all."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_Here is a bit of Apollonia's background, and a peek at what sort of pain she suffers if she indulges in a sport for too long. Which is why she does not participate in clubs. Sugawara sent Kiyoko to lead her to the bathroom to ensure that she would be okay, while he and Nishinoya did damage control by informing the third years of Apollonia's identity._

_Anyway, thank you to all of the new followers, favorites and reviews, I appreciate every single one of them! Let me know what you think of the story, or what or WHO you would like to see._

_Here's how creative yours truly is:_

_Virpi: Finnish, translated to 'Young, Beautiful, Slim Tree.'_

_Svane: Finnish, 'Swan.'_

_Mind-blowing, right?_

_Äiti: Finnish, 'Mother.'_

_Isä: Finnish, 'Father.'_

_We got to meet mostly Apollonia's parents, and a little of Kiyoko this chapter, sort of. But next, we will meet Daichi and Tanaka, oooooh fun!__  
_

___'All that I am, I am because of my mind.' Quote courtesy of Finnish athlete Paavo "The Flying Finn" Nurmi. All rights to that quote go to Paavo!_  



	4. Caging the Swan

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_She was but a gangly Finnish woman from a far off land, and had nothing to do with the people or events that she had experienced that afternoon. She was but another breathing body, another woman, and another athlete without a face, without wings._

_But still beneath her body, beneath all of the aches and pains, beneath the hearty bark of her trunk lie a swan, and wingspan that would lead whomever may follow._

_Apollonia sighed._

_'All that I am, I am because of my mind.'_

* * *

_Karasuno High School, 1 Year Before Storyline_

_"Caging the Swan."_

* * *

"She's amazing."

Daichi stood, speechless, and appalled that so much power could come from not only a woman, but also a rather slim one at that. From atop the railing, he perhaps faired the best when watching the match between the lowerclassmen and the upperclassmen: he could watch as they darted back and forth, interacting with one another without need of extensive verbal communication. It truly astounded him that their certain partnership had flourished as it did: despite how quiet it was between the three, it was as if they were communicating between the sensory traces left on the ball as it left their skin with each bump, set and spike.

He had played with Sugawara since his first year, even during winter, spring and summer break, and he knew the setter almost as much as he knew himself. And thus, he knew that Sugawara was surprisingly vocal despite his somewhat submissive demeanor, as well he relied on hand signals and signs to perform at his best. He was by the book, and was essentially the poster child for how to be a dutiful, hardworking setter. Some called him a 'Dark Horse,' because he was not exponentially gifted—something Daichi could relate to, considering he himself was not immaculately tall or inhumanly powerful, yet still formidable all on his own. They were both ordinary, both he and Sugawara, but hard working.

And watching his hard working, by the book, dutiful setting friend interacting so fluidly with this… girl without the usage of spoken word or hand gestures, well, it was astounding.

Again, Daichi stated,

"She's amazing."

From the moment she bared her wings, flexing the down and ivory bristles from between her shoulder blades, the mood at their end of the court had changed. Nishinoya, being as fired up as one human could be, had gone eerily mute—not in a demure manner, but concentrated, trusting. Sugawara, ordinarily outspoken, said little, yet their attacks were so effortless, as if they had prepared them beforehand, and practiced them endlessly until they were perfected. They were so sure of themselves, even though they were up against formidable allies, against people who were older, wiser, more experienced than they were, who had been together longer and knew each other's strengths and weaknesses.

But they were not taken, they did not waver, and the very person they had looked to for direction…

Was that girl.

Nishinoya had her back, receiving all that he could and was able to, becoming obviously frustrated when he would be a hair's short, but bounced right back to position when she would turn a shoulder and give him a thumbs up. The young libero crouched predatorily, taking action when her wings would shift, so that he may cover both her and Sugawara's blind spots.

Sugawara was the conductor of their three-person orchestra, but looked for her long, stoic face for guidance. She had said something to him, the only utterance of words with any significance, but Sugawara took them to heart. And the most powerful weapon Sugawara had was heart. It engulfed his body, his drive, and magnified it tenfold, and with his heart he looked for that towering Finnish woman, and every set and toss he manifested, he ensured that it was high, and it suited her, following her direction. She would dig her spot on the court where her roots felt comfortable, and in an instant, Sugawara would aim his toss. He trusted that where she lay would be both the safest and most dangerous destination: that she was capable of receiving his toss, however clumsy, and would spike it until the floor cracked and crumbled beneath them.

Sugawara rarely got a chance to properly set for anyone, being easily overshadowed and overlooked. He did not have the chance to build that relationship between a decent spiker and himself. Asahi was the closest thing to his significant other when it came to setter and spiker, but even the both of them did not have their roles as polished as he and Apollonia had showed today. He didn't have to say a word to her, or even make eye contact with her, and yet he always managed to lead the ball straight to her without hesitation where it would land. He trusted that her mighty alabaster wings would engulf his own, that he as a fallen crow could both take shelter under her span, at the same time, uplift her with his own strength.

He had done it.

Sugawara had found his spiker, his ace. Someone who he could completely and unconditionally… _trust_.

And she had shown the same to both of them. A tall, gangly Finnish woman who could just barely scrape by using dated Japanese vocabulary, who had honestly no knowledge about Miyagi or Karasuno, put her complete trust in these two… strangers.

It almost pained him, the look on Sugawara's face when she nearly collapsed on the court after they had made their winning point. He knew that expression: the setter felt that he had pushed her too hard, that he had broken her branches, rendering her as flightless and grounded as the rest of them. He had a look of guilt, of such pity on his face, every word of regret for his actions making their way to his mouth, though Kiyoko quickly stepped in and ushered Apollonia away from the setter.

Then, Nishinoya stampeded straight up to his senpai, and after knowing both he and Apollonia for merely hours, proceeded to smack the setter's arm in a manner that was likely meant to be reassuring. He could vaguely read the words on the libero's lips, the only thing apparent being the wide smile that accented them.

"She's going to be fine."

Daichi looked to the side to see Asahi leaning over the railing as well, gesturing to Nishinoya—who was jumping around holding a black Karasuno jersey.

"The little one said, 'She's going to be fine,'" he clarified.

Daichi nodded to his fellow second year.

"Right."

They were quiet for a moment, watching as Apollonia made her way back out, the third years beyond embarrassed by their barbaric actions, fawning over her like a fair maiden.

Though Apollonia was indeed a maiden, she was anything but fair, and certainly did not enjoy being fawned over, and shied away from the third years, holding her hands up in a manner that read, '_Please, don't touch me_.' Still, they ruffled her ivory hair, and wrapped their arms around her sinewy neck, her feathers puffed and agitated by their ministrations. She was like a young, flustered swanling among garish aged crows, her wings retracted, but her spirit as palpable as ever.

She had an otherworldly aura to her, a gravitational pressure that sucked those around her in, and wouldn't let go. Yet she shied away when they neared her, keeping them at a distance, though not too far to make herself unknown. She was to be watched from afar, an enigma that would immediately vanish upon recognizing the presence of another.

Perhaps with their bare hands they would not be able to capture her, but with the musical rhythm of their wings they could possibly persuade her to fall in line with their flock, and perhaps she could be an ivory beacon within their velvet black: a long-necked waterfowl with snow white plumage residing beside a murder of crows. Perhaps it was a humorous sight, a humorous notion even, yet after seeing just how wide her wings spanned, and how strong her roots had proven to be, Daichi felt his hands tighten in anticipation.

She could not compete with them, dig for them, or spike for them, but from a distance even the crows could stand to watch the flight of another, and learn from the way they flapped their wings, the way their held their graceful bodies. Disregarding gender, disregarding health, age or origins, they could learn from her.

Daichi looked down as Apollonia lightly waved to the third years in effort to escape their gnawing talons, and he wondered:

How hard could it be to cage a swan?

…

_The Next Day._

She was wearing a cuff—a rather large one at that. Almost like a makeshift cast, or one of those medical braces that could be found at sport's stores within the injury rehab and prevention section. It was black and bulky—it honestly looked rather uncomfortable to even have on, the different ways that it wrapped across her wrist and knuckles.

She was diligently reading her textbook, taking dual notes both in Japanese as well as Finnish with her left hand, and appeared to be the ever hardworking, studious individual. Appeared.

But from her side, Sugawara was contracting a fatal case of frostbite.

"Are you feeling better, Apollonia-chan?"

Sugawara was standing by Apollonia's desk, his hand fidgeting with the strap of his bag in gestures of apprehension. Apollonia turned her head, the alabaster hue to her hair becoming more menacing than ethereal in the powerful morning light. Though her face was overall blank, if not unreadable, Sugawara was still able to detect a fair amount of hostility boiling in her skin. She was irritated, that much was certain. To address what exactly she was irritated about, well, Sugawara had a pretty fair guess. After all, Apollonia had made it explicitly clear that she was not interested in going or even interacting with any clubs; thus whenever she found herself playing a single match against a bunch of energized third years, and nearly collapsing afterwards, she wasn't the happiest swanling after having to strap such a bulky, unattractive brace to her wrist.

"I am fine."

She resumed reading her book, hoping that Sugawara would accept her response and be on his way. Though unfortunately for Apollonia, he stood patiently at her side, despite the bit of rime forming on his shoulder from her suddenly cold demeanor.

"I'm sorry you hurt your wrist."

Her hard, calcite eyes flicked up at him from under heavy white eyelashes. She made a small noise in the back of her throat.

"Please be direct," she deadpanned.

Sugawara shrunk back slightly, unable to respond. If just a bit of icy dew had settled upon his shoulder merely by her metallic stare, then her even more frigid statement was enough to turn the entirety of his front a sickly blue and purple. He looked off to the side when the temperature of her eyes had dropped below zero, desperately trying to find a way out, though the sound of her voice—which was oddly tinkling and feminine despite her demeanor—resonated around him.

"Are you here to ask me to help you practice just like your seniors already have?"

Oh… shit.

Sugawara had to admit that women were rather formidable when it came to reading people's mind—or at least reading their character—because she had openly exposed his self-serving intentions. And, she did it entirely straight faced.

Sugawara grasped for an explanation—anything at all—and found himself scrambling to repent for his superiors' actions.

"I'm sorry that they were a bit… overzealous. That's just how they are," Sugawara apologized, "I was planning on inviting you to another practice… but after yesterday, you don't have to even come near the gymnasium if you don't want to," he added. "I probably should have forewarned my senpais that you were coming, then they probably wouldn't have challenged you to a match."

He found himself flustered as her hard glass face had melted slightly, though continued,

"I mean, I know you said you didn't want to be part of any club activities, but I was just hoping that you would at least like to make some friends. The second years aren't that bad, and there are some really great first years too, like Nishinoya-kun. You're really great, too," he chirped, rubbing the back of his head, trying to laugh off his own double entendre,

"I've never seen someone like you before. I-I mean, not like, you look different than us, because you do, don't, but-"

Sugawara continued with his long-winded speech, avoiding her eye contact the best that he could as he laughed nervously and scratched the side of his temple, shifting from foot to foot as he essentially repeated the same apology four different times.

Apollonia's eyes had altogether glazed over, his words but muddled nasal noises. Her eyes, always searching and shrewdly analyzing, settled on menial aspects of his appearance: his little mole at the corner of her cheek, that odd bit of hair that flicked up from his fringe, the round, youthful shape of his face. His mouth moved in a beguiling way, one that imitated a child's though was mature enough to be an adolescent's: it was wide and cheerful, and had Apollonia not been so skilled in keeping her Finnic stoicism in check, perhaps she would have moved her mouth in the same manner. Shaking her head from her thoughts, she blinked and snapped her eyes closed before renewing Sugawara's clarity before her.

To her surprise, he was still talking; so in order to politely silence his unnecessary monologue, she said,

"I like the way that you toss."

Sugawara stopped.

"Huh," he responded intelligently.

"I never had a setter. Back in Kalajoki, I played by myself, so I didn't have someone to set for me. I like the way that you toss."

Granted she was implying that he was the only one to ever toss to her, but a compliment was a compliment, and Sugawara would take it whole-heartedly.

"Really," Sugawara said, his voice rising, "so, would you possibly want to play with us again?"

Apollonia's melted glass had immediately solidified, and all at once, resharpened its edges, an uneasy bend to her eyebrows as she stared at him skeptically.

"No," she answered.

…

_Lunchtime_

"You make it sound like she rejected a date from you," Daichi commented, patting Sugawara on the shoulder. Sugawara sighed, holding his bento limply in his hand as he, Daichi and Asahi all walked in line towards the courtyard. Since she had openly refused to practice with them, Sugawara took it as a sign to just avoid the Finn's unnerving aggression altogether, thus he would attend his lunch period with his fellow second years rather than awkwardly sitting next to her in homeroom while she ate salad with a goddamn fork. Even Sugawara had to raise an eyebrow, who the Hell ate salad with a fork? Was that another Finnish thing?

Regardless, the setter, aspiring captain, and unearthly tall wing spiker made their way outside, only to be met by the bright, shining faces of Tanaka and Nishinoya.

"SUGA-SAN! DAICHI-SAN," they yelled in unison.

Daichi sighed heavily with a weary smile, ushering a hand over to Asahi. "This is Asahi, he is your superior as well. He's a wing spiker," he clarified.

Both Tanaka and Nishinoya stared wide-eyed at the towering second year, who looked more like a bear than a man due to his stubbly face and immaculate height. Regardless, they bowed lowly and chirped a quick, "HELLO, ASAHI-SENPAI!"

Asahi chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he shied away from the two.

Sugawara turned his attention back to the first years, "So what brings you guys here?"

"We wanted you to practice with us during lunch," they both exclaimed, holding their hands up in a praying gesture.

Sugawara looked over to Daichi, who was fairly surprised just how vivacious the two were. It was bad enough that they were energetic enough separate, but together, they emitted enough energy to power an entire continent for a hundred years or more. He muttered something akin to, '_The first years are so lively_,' and chuckled, before giving the two a courteous smile.

"Sure thing."

…

She swore after the entire scene with the third years the day prior, she would altogether avoid volleyball.

Yet during the match, as she had felt in California, an overwhelming euphoria had swept her senses, making her feel alive, strong and powerful, even when a thousand volts of pain would flood her body. Despite playing amateur volleyball since childhood: the beaches of Kalajoki being the perfect spot for matches, Apollonia felt as though she had really played for the first time.

Those two boys, that was what teamwork felt like? That was what camaraderie felt like? It was freeing, as well it was electrifying, seeing one at your side while another gratefully protected your back. It was the feeling of presence, just the simple awareness of the body next to her, that despite her foreign face and foreign voice, she was not alone.

So, after a sleepless night, and an entire tub of menthol rub covering her wrist and elbow, Apollonia felt a strong gravitational pull towards the volleyball courts once more. She inwardly scolded herself for being so curt with Sugawara, the only real Japanese native who had shown her any cordiality thus far: for her housing manager was rather prejudice, and the students and teachers often looked at her with novelty rather than respect. She felt as though she had purposefully distanced herself from him, an act so habitual, than she should not have given it a second thought.

But she did, and the dreary color shading her skin made her sick to her stomach, as though she had made a mistake discounting him as he clumsily tried to apologize to her. So with the ball firmly under her wing, she set off towards the courts. Perhaps if she could improve herself, both skillfully and socially, even a garish swan such as her could mesh with a murder of crows.

Apollonia walked into the gym, the court was empty, though the volleyball net still stood tall at its center. She glanced around to ensure that she was the only person within its walls, setting her athletic bag down beside her. She unlatched her skirt, sliding down the fabric down over her athletic shorts. She removed her shirt and sweater until she was left with a simply white undershirt, then slipped around her wrist and compression glove that extended over her elbow before covering her torso with her Stanford sweatshirt.

It still smelled like California, she had to muse: salty like the seaside air, mixing with potent aroma of sunscreen and board polish as the surfers ran on by. Yet, the scent was fading, more rapidly than she expected: and was quickly being replaced with what she had to assume to be the distinct scent of Japan, or at the very least, Miyagi. The aroma of her sweatshirt was trivial at best, but the more she thought about the sudden, imminent change that just a piece of cloth had experienced, she began to see changes in its stitching, in its form, its color.

It was different.

It felt foreign.

Yet, it pained her to admit that she of all people could not profess what exactly was foreign and what was not: even in Finland where she was born and bred, did they look at her as a stranger, despite having their face, and their accent. Even as a swan among swans, their feathers were a little whiter, their beaks a little cleaner, their flight more uniform and musical. Yet, she was the only one who proved true to her waterfowl form by flying from country to country, and continent to continent.

Swans were inherently migratory birds—destined to not overstay their welcome—and prepared to take flight when the timing was right. Still, they returned to the place of their origins, their home, but what exactly could they call their home?

After the year, perhaps she would return to Finland for her last year of high school, and go to a Finnish University for Sport's Medicine, and live a Finnish life with Finnish people who seldom acknowledged her. It was a relatively easy plan, returning to her homeland to flesh out her education. After she received her Bachelor's Degree—no, her Master's—she'd be able to repay her parents for all that they provided her, then go off on her own travels without needing to worry their bank accounts.

She could go farther, stay longer wherever she liked, maybe even gain dual citizenship rather than acquiring so many temporary visas.

Perhaps she would return to Kenya, though living somewhere in Eastern Europe seemed far more appealing than the unbearably hot African continent. Then again, she was fluent in English, and would probably flourish better in America, but God forbid if she ever returned to California—she may have been fluent in English, but there was no possible way those people were speaking the same language as she was.

Maybe she would return here as well—it by far had the most scenic beach in her eyes, the Japanese coast a refreshing change from Kalajoki and California.

The locals weren't so bad—a little eccentric, yes, but they must have though the same if not worse of her—but it was comfortable, the atmosphere of Japan. Like Finland, the locals mostly left her alone, but regarded her with a sort of novelty she felt when she visited other countries. They were exceedingly polite to her, and she the same, but she did not experience the off-putting stares she had received in her homeland. She looked exactly like her Norse-folk, though her aptitude, her appearance, her upbringing still set her apart from the families of Kalajoki who might not have been as well off financially as she.

These Eastern dwellers—these smooth-faced, petite Japanese natives—they just looked at her, then blinked and went off on their way.

For that she was more than grateful. That she could stand among them, foreign, an outsider, yet they still had the sort of tact to continue walking without missing a step.

Yes, perhaps she would return to Miyagi.

But she would not overstay her welcome.

Her feathers gratefully accepted the wind in Japan, but she could not let herself be grounded by a youthful masculine face, or a polite Japanese accent. She must keep her wings broad, ready for flight.

She dribbled the volleyball against her bare, cuff-less right hand, cringing as shockwaves of sensation pulsed through her wrist, down her hand and across her knuckles and finger joints. It ricocheted up her elbow, causing it to jerk in reaction to the thousand volts of pain shooting through her wrist. The ball fell to her feet, bouncing off of her wide toe box away from her. She quickly recovered it, her right side still trembling quietly, the unnatural mixture of pinching nerves and imploding joint pressure proving an act as simple as dribbling a simple pleather ball quite frustrating for Apollonia.

"Mene pois, mene pois," she commanded in a hushed whisper, as if the nerves in her arm would suddenly comply. She set down the ball and stretched, starting from her fingers down her knuckles, before making her way down to her wrist where she favored the joint a little longer than necessary, and traveled to her elbow, stretching the tension wound up at the base of her forearm. Slowly, the aches and pains faded, though just below the surface. Apollonia flexed her fingers, now still and strong, and picked up the ball. She looked past the netting at her eye level, towards the horizon of the other side, and exhaled.

"Ei hätää."

…

A swan's predatory attack was an astounding thing indeed.

They had walked in on her practicing her serve accuracy: she had set up five bottles in a straight thread just off of the backline, equal distances apart from one another. It was a simple practice that they had all participated in, each boasting varying results. With diligence, Daichi managed to successfully down every bottle without missing a shot, Sugawara a close second, though the setter was light handed whenever he tried to wrap his head around hitting such a small target. Asahi himself could not pull off such accurate blows, but was able to demolish whatever stood in his way with his mighty swing, the aftershocks proving sufficient enough to indirectly knock the bottles over.

But she hit every single shot with such tedious accuracy, hitting each bottle at its core from her single position at the serving line. She set up the bottles again, though this time riddled throughout the back zone, without any pattern or form. Again, from her perch she was able to knock down each barrier without missing a step. Her serves came faster, stronger, higher, and bolder. Her third set of serves, she even managed to mangle one of the bottles past recognition, ultimately tossing it to the side and continuing with just four rather than five.

They just sat back with their heads peeking through the door, unable to react to her manner of serving. It was efficient—she did not use more energy than she needed to—and it was effortless, as if every muscle fiber in her arm were still dormant, despite the violent sounds of the ball hitting the court. It was a carnal Nordic strength that lie in her body, despite its unimpressive build. Her primitive strength was almost enough to compensate for her lack of speed: for despite her accuracy and vicious strength, she was frightfully slow in delivery, as if even in real time, her serves were manifested in slow motion. She left herself open, allowing enough time for her opponents to prepare for her attack.

Slow or not, the string of second years did not want to be at the butt-end of her serve regardless. Daichi had his chin jutted out trying to hide both the conflicting amazement as well as apprehension he felt after every resounding 'smack' of her hand. Asahi himself was slightly crouched behind his two friends as she attacked each one of her own serves like a predatory bird rushing across a watery floor. Sugawara's frostbitten body stood motionless as he watched her serve after serve.

It was more aggressive than before, and precise, she was surer of herself, she trusted herself.

She was using her left hand.

He was aware since day one that she was possibly left-handed, despite using her right hand during the match the other day. But the fact that she was so easily serving with a hand he assumed she was just accustomed to use for writing, the fact that she was a _switch hitter_, a truly deadly ally on the volleyball battlefield...

Well… he was speechless.

He blinked, only able to utter her name.

"Apollo-"

"APPLE-SENPAI! APPLE-SENPAI!"

All three of the second years were shoved backwards as Nishinoya broke through their wall towards an efficiently and thoroughly stunned Apollonia.

She was halfway in the middle of yet another daunting jump serve, but as the immaculately boisterous voice of Nishinoya bounced off every surrounding wall and maximized tenfold into a tumultuous uproar, she stopped mid jump, landing awkwardly on her right leg. It buckled underneath her, sweeping her footing out and under, until she fell knee first against the floor, the volleyball dropping with a comedic 'thunk' against her flustered, ivory head.

Nishinoya—who vaguely acknowledged the fact that the gangly foreigner just dropped like a big Finnic rock out of the sky—ran and stood over her, his fists raised over his head.

"Apple-san, are you here to practice with us too," he chirped.

Apollonia turned her head in effort to scold Nishinoya—who by now was sitting cross-legged across her back as if she were some goddamn pony, holding the discarded ball that brazenly hit her in the back of the head—but as she acknowledged his bubbling excitement, she found it increasingly difficult to just snip a firm, 'No,' at him as she did Sugawara.

Nishnoya stepped off of her back, allowing her to rotate so that she was sitting on her hide, and allowed Nishinoya to help her up into a wobbly stand. She lurched over and stretched the wound up knot of muscles and nerves that so callously decided to lock up as her spectators made their way into the gymnasium. She leaned back up with her arms pulled over her head, stretching back and to the side before she turned back to the first year…

Who was still staring at her with that godforsaken smile of his, wriggling with anticipation.

Goddamn. If the rest of the first years were like this, then Apollonia had her work cut out for her.

Her mouth ran thin as she tried not to make it obvious that she was chewing on her lower lip.

"Sure," she finally answered.

"OSSSUU," the little libero howled, jumping into the air while Sugawara stood dumbstruck behind him. The setter watched as Nishinoya pushed the ball back into Apollonia's grip, urging her to serve to him as he sprinted to the other side, but then back again when he decided he'd rather play on the Finn's team instead of against her.

Sugawara chuckled, earning a brief glance from Daichi.

"What is it," he asked.

Sugawara just grinned.

"I'm just glad."

…

"Asahi-san."

It took three different explanations, but they were finally able to persuade Apollonia to recognize the towering wing-spiker with the suffix of '-san,' considering that when she was presented with his name, she rendered him mute with embarrassment by bowing lowly after addressing him without ornament. It was a wonder how the giant's glass heart did not just break then and there, but they were relieved when he merely turned away from her and bowed his head against a wall, though it took a great deal of prodding from them just to have him turn a simple shoulder back towards her.

"APPLE-SAN!"

Tanaka proved entirely opposite as he bounced up to Apollonia and held a proud thumb towards his chest.

"Tanaka Ryunosuke, wing-spiking dragon of the east," he cried.

"No one calls you that," commented Daichi with his arms crossed.

Still, Apollonia bowed politely and chewed on her tongue before answering hesitantly, "Tanaka-kun?" She glanced over to Sugawara, who nodded with two thumbs up at her proper address. He was nodding expectantly that she was learning so quickly, though could not hide his amused smile that when she spoke, her Finnish accent was fully exploited—which oddly, her dialect sounded similar to Kansai-ben, though with an obvious Nordic yodel to her pronunciation. He chuckled when Daichi tried introducing himself in a European manner, holding out his hand for her to shake, but froze when her head came in contact with his fingers as Apollonia had been in the rut of addressing each boy by bowing.

Daichi quickly snatched his hand back and bowed as well, a little rattled, though fervently trying to hide it considering Apollonia showed no awareness of his faux pas. She nodded her head and responded composedly,

"Daichi-san."

Daichi grinned uneasily, and sighed a sigh of relief when the ever effervescent Nishinoya and Tanaka bounded forwards and took the attention away from his flushing face. They looked up to the second tallest bird before them, chirping excitedly to see her jump serve once more, high-fiving one another when she begrudgingly accepted. From the side, Daichi and Sugawara shared an identical grin.

"Alright," Daichi started.

"How will we split teams?"

…

Needless to say, all of the second years were laid out flat across the court floor, facedown and panting, the only remaining bodies still active being Tanaka and Nishinoya. Apollonia caved first—greatly lacking stamina—followed by Sugawara, then Daichi, and finally, Asahi.

"Ei enää koskaan," Apollonia groaned into the court floor, her right arm feverishly trembling, every single muscle from head to toe throbbing, her joints feeling as though they were chained with shackles ten sizes too small. Even though Sugawara didn't have a clue what the Hell she said, he groaned in agreement.

"The first years are _too_ lively," Daichi commented from the far end of the court, lying on his back as he looked wearily at the ceiling.

Asahi lay motionless next to Sugawara, though grunted as the setter nudged at his ribs with his foot to ensure that he was still breathing.

Tanaka and Nishinoya were still hopping from leg to leg on opposite side of the court—with Tanaka residing on Apollonia and Daichi's team, Apollonia providing meager setting, despite the position not placing high on her list of abilities. Apollonia was rather intellectual when it came to serving and spiking, but God forbid she'd even have to set for someone. Nishinoya was running circles around Asahi and Sugawara, both first years yelling in unison, "ONE MORE GAME! ONE MORE GAME!"

All three of the second years groaned in agony, waving their hand weakly in defeat. They had surely missed their next class—becoming too wound up in their game to realize their own absence. Still, they hardly cared as the jubilant sounds of their resident first years resonated off the walls, bringing their heads up to see the two dancing around like idiots.

Apollonia regarded the two, her hard expression softening into something delicate, though not entirely feminine. She reached out and grabbed the ball before her, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position as she transferred the ball palm-to-palm, wing-to-wing. Looking from the faux leather surface to Tanaka and Nishinoya, her mouth taking form of something that almost could have been identified as a grin, though not quite gentle enough.

She glanced over to see Sugawara grinning at her, stupidly, yet with a sense of endearment. It was a look of accomplishment, though she hardly knew what he could feel so accomplished about laying face down on a filthy, sweat-covered floor. Daichi, as well did not openly hide his amusement that out of all of the people skilled and cunning enough to posses the skills to trap a swan, their idiot first years would be the ones who would ground such a bird. Daichi too grinned.

"What," she asked when Sugawara's grin grew wider.

The setter chuckled.

"Thank you, Apollonia-chan."_  
_

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_Mene pois: Finnish, 'Go away.'_

_Ei hätää: Finnish, 'Don't worry.'_

_Ei enää koskaan: Finnish, 'Never again/Nevermore.'_

_Yay, we got to meet Daichi, Asahi AND the lovable Tanaka! So we are actually coming to an end to the 'arc,' depicting Apollonia and the rest of the elders as second years. Just a few more chapters, and then the story will take place in the present with Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi._

_Once the story delves more into the present, maybe I can start inquiring who you as readers would like Apollonia to end up with, but that's another dilemma for another chapter._

_Please let me know what you think opt the story so far, I definitely don't want characters to be OOC. And I don't want to put Apollonia too high on a pedestal (though her role is actually to be presented on a pedestal, though she is merely a tall, brutish, Finnic woman, thus contrasting who she is aside from how people view her. It makes for some self-confidence issues that will be addressed in later chapters, but regardless,)_

_I hope you are all enjoying the story, thank you and good night/day!_

_**Edit**: I made a little comic depicting the end of this chapter, it is on tumblr. You can just search 'Bergliot,' of 'Apollonia' and it'll come up: bergliot-manner.(tumblr) post/87829282430/smile_

_Without the parenthesis of course!_


	5. Fly with Us

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_She glanced over to see Sugawara grinning at her, stupidly, yet with a sense of endearment. It was a look of accomplishment, though she hardly knew what he could feel so accomplished about laying face down on a filthy, sweat-covered floor. Daichi, as well did not openly hide his amusement that out of all of the people skilled and cunning enough to posses the skills to trap a swan, their idiot first years would be the ones who would ground such a bird. Daichi too grinned._

_"What," she asked when Sugawara's grin grew wider._

_The setter chuckled._

_"Thank you, Apollonia-chan."  
_

* * *

_One year Before the Storyline_

_"Fly with Us."_

* * *

_"When you flee from a wolf, you run into a bear."_

- _Finnish Proverb_

* * *

It started out innocent enough. She would play a match against them here and there, she would serve for them so that they may practice their receives, she even acted as a blocker for Tanaka's spikes so that Nishinoya could dig and dive to his heart's content. And after every practice, she would convince herself that this was the last time.

She'd assure herself that this would be the last time that she would watch Daichi smile confidently when he would pull of the perfect receive. She'd assure herself that this would be the last time she would watch Asahi beam in amazement when he would spike the ball straight through her arms. She'd assure herself that this would be the last time she would watch Nishinoya and Tanaka jump on each other's shoulders when they would cheer her on, calling for another jump serve.

She's assure herself that this would be the last time she would be comforted by Sugawara's expectant grin, his kind words after a hard day of jumping and serving. She hoped it would be the last day he would speak openly to her, that after today, they would just be classmates, sparing maybe but a glance at one another in recognition. Because, if she had to hear his voice one more day—that gentle, patient voice with not a hint of disfavor—she wouldn't be able to look at herself in the mirror again.

In Finland, she had not experienced such kindness aside from her parents. Even in other countries, it was a different sort of benevolence she faced—it was a forced courtesy that the natives had shown her, something very similar to friendship—though they understood when she informed them that she would leave after only a couple weeks. The Californian's were a bit perturbed by her inevitable absence, but did not hesitate to let her go when their term started again. Swans typically pushed their young away early, as soon as the first flutter of their wings manifested, they were to go off and find their own alliances.

But, she was a solitary swan, without stable water to wade, without a bevy to call her own, and she had migrated in her own wedge—all the way from continent to continent, from Finland to America to Japan. On her own, a single ivory arrow in the sky, until a murder of tight-winged crows called for her in their strange guttural dialect. She rested at the base of a proverbial Nordic tree, dining on ripened apples until she gained her fill. Once her large, alabaster body was nourished, the muscles under her down would flex and through the branches she would be able to fly until she sailed beyond the horizon to another land where she would be but a lone, long-necked waterfowl out of place, gliding ephemerally along their waters.

And as she waded the waters of these petite-framed, Eastern Aves, they had acknowledged her. A bunch of little, ruddy black crows with dirt in their wings, their feathers matted from the aftermath of war and failure, and they had the courage to call out to her. They asked her to play a game, such small insignificant pests such as them proposing to a foreign, sturdy bird such as herself an offer of frivolity. She was not used to hearing sounds other than her own wing's flutter, but their voices—they combined like a chorus—she found it hard to turn away. She didn't deserve their attention: regardless of the fact that she was a noble swan of celestial legend, regardless that they were the shadow of Aves, the underbelly of the Corvidae family, she still didn't deserve to be blessed by another's attention.

She had willingly let herself travel without a partner of her own, so by no means was she looking for geniality, especially not theirs. They were so humble, when the long-necked Elk back home in contrast were haughty and aggressive. It was in her nature to do the same, to look down at them with her unshakable stare, her wings tense and arched territorially. But she defied her nature: she defied it by traveling alone, and she defied it by indulging in the attention of these crows. And needless to say, she was comforted by their hospitality, their insight. They had professed their desires to climb back up into the sky and fly again, surpassing every volleyball team that had part in ripping the wings off of their back. And as she sat in the water before them, alone and dull in the shadows, she stepped into the light, her white wings strapped firmly to her side, they asked her:

'_Fly with us_.'

She'd teach them how to soar again; it was a nagging concept that she had manifested on a whim—to lead them to the apple tree where their journey would begin. Like a fabled tale they would fly again.

"I was planning on leaving for Finland after this year was over."

But she was not a swan, or an apple tree. And they were not crows. She was just a girl from Finland. They were just high school boys with ambitions.

Daichi's eyebrows lifted, his head recoiling, though Sugawara was the one to verbalize his shock.

"Really? You mean you're not going to stay in Miyagi, Apollonia-chan? You don't want to finish high school here, or go to a University here?"

She did her best to keep her face paved and smooth, though underneath the surface, she had grimaced.

'_I can't, because then I'll be reminded that I have a reason to stay_.'

"I just travel to learn the culture, and to play sports, so I have no reason to continue residing in Miyagi."

Nishinoya—who was standing next to Asahi on the other side of the net—ducked under and ran up to Apollonia and stretched his legs and neck so that his tuft of blonde could meet the bottom of her chin.

"You can't!"

He had a firm grip on the sleeves of her sweatshirt, soaked in bottled water and perspiration, but was lightly being pulled back by Asahi and Daichi. Normally so bright and jovial, he looked hurt: his brow was furrowed like a child's, his mouth had scrunched into a hard frown, and he was breathing heavily through his nose. He was like a hatchling throwing a tantrum, over something so menial, over her of all people. He had only known her for a few weeks, a couple of months and he was behaving this way. It took Apollonia off guard, she wore an expression of unabashed shock as Nishinoya wriggled out of Daichi and Asahi's grip and tugged on the front of her Stanford sweatshirt.

"We'll give you a reason to stay, we'll show you!"

"Nishinoya, please calm down," Sugawara coaxed, trying to pry his grip from Apollonia's clothing. But the libero still exuded that mighty fervor in his eyes, strong enough to rattle his own teeth as he bit down.

"What do you mean you have no reason to stay, what about your friends," he pushed feeding off of Apollonia's speechless expression, "we're your friends, you don't just leave us behind! You, playing with us right now, this isn't culture, it isn't just playing a sport, you're our friend and you should stay!"

Her Finnic stoicism broken, Apollonia spoke in spite of her expression, her voice like tepid water starting to boil.

"I cannot play for you in real matches, I have no real position on this court. I'm not your libero, not your wing-spiker, not your setter. This is all just frivolous play, you're not gaining anything by playing with me."

Her calcite eyes had milked over, becoming dark and opaque, as if she were trying to will the image of them out of her mind: their disappointed frowns, Nishinoya's frustrated sneer. She looked down at her side, towards her bandaged wrist, damning it for staying so tame at this time. She wanted to feel the pain consume her, her chronic joint pain was far more comforting than the violent breaking of her heart as she tried to sever the ties that held together their wings, their roots.

"Actually," came Daichi's diplomatic voice, "You've helped us grow so much already, Apollonia-san. We should be thanking you for being so willingly to play with a bunch of Fallen Crows."

Her eyes opened wide, the clarity of their forms becoming all too real as she looked upon their half-smiling faces. They were nodding in mutual agreement, Tanaka and Nishinoya a little more aggressively than the rest.

"Apple-san, you make me want to jump higher," Tanaka assured.

"I definitely want to learn how to spike from you, Apollonia-san," Asahi added meekly from behind Daichi.

"Apple-san, I'll save every return that you can't reach, even if I have to tear my arm off and throw it at the ball," Nishinoya cried, holding his fists tight in front of her. "It doesn't matter if you're on the court or not, I can never let you see me miss!"

"And what am I going to do without my own personal ace," Sugawara asked, holding out the ball towards her. "I've already improved in so little time, and you've given me so much confidence. You don't have to be on the court with us to inspire us, just knowing that you're still there even in the stands is enough."

"So that's it," Nishinoya forced with a tone of finality, "you should stay, Apple-san."

Apollonia stood, empty like a vacant shell, at a loss of words, a loss of thought, a loss of everything. Even her heavy heart had shattered, completely dissipating within her core as if it had never existed at all. Her head was bowed, her pale fringe covering the building tears that were balancing on her lower lid, her mouth a fine line as it was sucked between her teeth.

This wasn't forced hospitality; this wasn't false geniality they were showing her. This… this was…

"I'm sorry," she started, earning a stunned silence from the boys in front of her. She looked up, the white of her sclera a little pink as she sniffed back her tears like water behind an unstable dam.

"I've never had anyone say anything like that to me before," she confessed, "I've never had people who relied on me, who I've inspired."

Her superior grades didn't matter to her classmates, her aspirations to attain a degree in Sport's Medicine was never relevant. Back in Finland, she may as well not even been born with a name in the eyes of her peers. She was just that well-off girl who could afford to go to abroad for the summer, who didn't have to work hard to get what she wanted. And after hearing that for so long, she started to believe that she had nothing to contribute, nothing at all.

She took a sharp breath in, trying to relieve the pressure that was building in her lungs and throat as she wiped her eyes, the dam slowly breaking. Her journey through Kenya, through Brazil, and America flashed through her mind: from the beginning, she had professed that their ambitions are what inspired her, that they as people who flourished within their own culture, who were accepted by their own culture, wanted to expand their own metaphorical wings and show the world exactly who they were. They wanted to gain notice for their schools, their families, their people, their country. She thought that just feeding off of their spark would be enough to justify her own indulgences by traveling so frivolously.

But she was not feeding, she was consuming their aspirations for herself, whether she realized her greed or not.

Those were not her dreams, and she had no right to taken them as her own.

But now, she felt a change in tide, a shift in the wind. She was to driven by their need to fly again.

She was driven by pride, as self-serving as it was, it was pride that bleached her feathers, ruffling her down.

It was her pride that would not let her see these crows fall again. She wanted to be needed, she wanted to be more than 'a well-off Finn,' with good grades and an upturned nose. Even if it was just one game, even if they didn't win, seeing just one ebony feather sprout from their back would be enough.

She bit back, and tightened her fists, forcing herself to look each one in the eye, her resolve building.

It was the first time anyone had ever thanked her, the first time anyone had told her that she inspired them, it was the first time she even just one person to truly identify as her friend, her acquaintance even. "I should be thanking you," she confessed, her voice starting to break, "so thank you."

Nishinoya's mouth had spread into a wide grin, rubbing off on each of the other players as the tension shackled around them had fallen to the floor, loud and clanking, and never before had they felt more free.

"So, you'll stay," he chirped.

Apollonia craned her neck towards Nishinoya, taking in every detail of his smiling face, then back up to each of the fallen crows behind him: the individual color of their eyes, the varying tones of their flawless skin, their mussed up hair, the vibrant colors that made up their personality, the beautiful black they became when those colors mixed, every miniscule detail she could pick up, she swallowed it and engrained it in her brain, so that from now on, she may never forget these faces, these feathers, their personal drives.

These fallen crows, their passionate eyes, she'd be damned if she left them behind. She'd be damned if she sacrificed her own pride.

She could never step foot on this court in the same manner they could, her name would meaning nothing when they lined up against their opponents, they would likely never know who she was, and what she did for them. But she would make it known to the very crows before her.

Her eyes, harder and more vibrant than any fragment of calcite, was refracting the light into a thousand different threads, her pale hair slicked back like regal feathers.

"My name is Apollonia Eevastiina Manner," she began, "and I will not help you fallen crows fly again."

"I will help you soar."

* * *

_One Year Before the Storyline_

_"Utter Defeat."_

* * *

Somehow, even as they sunk into the depths of defeat, they stood taller than their elders. Maybe it was the ivory wings in which they followed, the branches of the tree in which they took shelter. Still, even though they were able to stand on their feet as they walked away with nary a victory to call their own, it felt like their wings had been clipped permanently.

Sugawara had sought solace in Asahi as his ace; Nishinoya was burning with a fire that surpassed the sun to ensure there would always be a chance to score; Daichi faired a brave face even when he was pushed towards walls he couldn't escape; Tanaka had a cry that was more powerful than any yell, more piercing than any crow's call.

But they fell, so hard on their backs with their wings twisted and broken, their spirits shattered. They had climbed to the top of the tree, they had seen the sky, and they were so ready to feel the wind underneath their wings, to feel the blues and whites of the heavens above them embrace them, to fly with the swan wherever she journeyed—because under her wings was not only victory, but promise, resolve.

But so hard, they fell.

…

Asahi walked off the court, feeling as though he was cut down like a worthless weed: not one shot. He couldn't even take one point from their talons.

At the time, he was firm and unshakable.

But he found himself wavering.

'_Can Apollonia-san jump this high, could she make this shot? If not me, then could she_?'

It was as if he lost his ability to jump. He lost his ability to speak. He didn't want to be heard, he didn't want to try and hit through a barrier and it only result in imminent defeat.

'_Is she strong enough to break this iron wall? Could she fly higher than them_?'

He didn't want to look to his teammates in fear of their disappointment—he could already taste the shame on his tongue, biting it so hard that it bled.

'_I'm sorry, Tanaka, Sugawara, Nishinoya, Daichi…_'

As they returned, his jersey was discarded on the floor.

'_But I'm not Apollonia-san_.'

His feet had firmly planted themselves into the ground.

'_I can't fly like her_.'

…

'_He gave up_,' Nishinoya hissed. As angry at Asahi's selfishness as he was, he was angry at himself for not being able to keep the ball airborne, whether or not their resident, '_ace'_ hit it or not. He was hoping, even praying that Asahi would call for it, just one last time. Just one last time, was what he wanted. He hoped that he could just look behind him and see Apollonia cheering them on—silently and primly as she always was—he wanted to see her on the ground with them, her wings bared and ready for flight, so that they may all follow in tow.

But she wasn't there.

He looked behind him, only to see the benched third years, the disheartened second years. He stood behind the line as his replacement stepped in, and she wasn't there. He couldn't feel her anywhere; he couldn't feel any of his teammates, none of them. He couldn't hear Tanaka—of all people to become mute at this time, it just had to be Tanaka. He couldn't hear the solid composure of Daichi, or Asahi's bear-like grunt, or Sugawara's enthusiastic, assuring words.

He couldn't hear that damned Nordic dialect; he couldn't see that immaculately alabaster hair, any of her plumage or bristles, he couldn't make out her hard calcite eyes, blue like the sky seen through thick glass. Everything had gone quiet around him. Black, dark, empty, voiceless. He couldn't even hear his own heartbeat dying out as he watched each of his teammates fall from their perch on their branches, falling out of the sky.

His fist had clenched white, his head bowed in shame.

Even with all of these people surrounding him, these crows, he felt so alone.

And he hated it.

…

He had lost his voice—that powerful vernacular that suited him so well—and he might as well have been benched as his energy dissipated into thin air as they made their way off the court.

His breathing was heavy, his face donning a scowl more terrifying then any of his other expressions. It was far more powerful, because it was unbearably genuine: the feeling of falling knowing that he failed, knowing that it would result the death of their legacy for that year, that they had been wiped off the battlefield as if they were nothing more than dirt under their soles.

'_I want to jump like her_,' he had reminded himself. And it was so easy to visualize her broad back and daunting wings expanding like an ivory blossom, opening like the mouth of the sun before it engulfed them and spit them out like he so badly wanted to do. But he could barely jump, he could barely lift his foot off of the ground as the points rack up against them.

"Shit," he cursed. He racked his hands across his head as if he could pull the image of himself flying beyond the trees, surpassing heaven, but found that his feet had been tied down, shackled. He grimaced.

"Shit."

…

He was supposed to be their pillar of support, of strength, composure and assurance, like a dutiful captain. But Daichi looked down the throat of defeat, a path he knew far too well, like a reluctant old friend. He tried to summon the words to bring the morale back up, but was at a loss for words. What could he say?

'_We have another year? We can do it? We just have to try harder? We can overcome this_?'

All were generic promises that anyone could profess, but he didn't have the heart to believe in any of them. He didn't have the heart to look his teammates in the eye and face them.

'_She was going to teach us how to fly._'

He tried not to linger on his tone in bitterness—he wasn't bitter, and he didn't blame her, but he was so ready to touch the sky and feel it slide between his fingers like blue silken ribbon. He had become so selfish, being as fired up as he was, so assured that just practicing with her a couple times a week would be enough to suffice, shirking practicing with his elders, shirking his own drive to improve himself.

'_We have another year_,' he reminded himself.

'_She will teach us how to fly_,' he mused. His eyes were glazed over, looking at the ground, but the resolve was slowly building in him.

'_Just another year_.'

…

Sugawara stood on the line as they made thanked their opponents—for demolishing them, for grounding them once again, for humiliating them.

He was filled with confidence that she had left them the day before, and never before had he felt more alive, but that confidence consumed him, and he stumbled trying to flutter his wings.

He had abused Asahi, his tender heart clenching as he couldn't even put a dent in the iron wall. He thought, just maybe, if he kept trying, that he too would sprout his wings like she would, rising higher than any barrier, that he would be unshakable.

But that was not the case.

He had pushed him away, pushed him far past his limit. It was his fault, that look in Asahi's eye. He was selfish, thinking that maybe if he tossed it enough, that he would shed his shell and she would appear on the court with them, and victory would be there's.

He had asked too much of the both of them.

Asahi had shattered in his hands.

Apollonia wasn't even in the stands, looking down at them with reassurance, not even a measly thumbs up. She wasn't there. He couldn't see her pale hair, her hard face, he couldn't feel her unshakable demeanor.

He wouldn't even be able to face her the next day when they returned to school, enduring the moniker once again, 'Flightless Crows.'

He couldn't face her knowing that while they lay bleeding and worthless on the ground, she'd look at them with pity from the sky, damning herself that she couldn't do more.

He couldn't.

* * *

_One Year Before the Storyline_

_"Mended Wings"_

* * *

"I must say, Apollonia-kun, I'm a bit apprehensive to allow this, but your contributions to the school, as well as these impeccable grades that are now on our records are hard to ignore."

Apollonia sat, stone-faced and blank as ever, and nodded politely.

"I was hoping that this would be able to help further my career as an Athletic Trainer. I want to specialize in sport's medicine. I hope that asking you to use me as a guinea pig on the volleyball team isn't too much to ask."

"Well, your test scores are through the roof, and you faired pretty well on your essays, despite your language barrier. The only thing you need to do is gain a sponsorship. You can try asking a hospital specializing in this type of medicine, or you can try a University. Do you have anything in mind?"

Apollonia's skin had turned cold.

'_A University?_'

Before, she was just faced with the decision of finishing high school in Miyagi, but now attending a Japanese college?

Swans were a migratory bird, seldom staying in one place for too long, returning to the nest of their origins.

But then again, she had defied nature once; perhaps she could do it again.

"I…" Her voice shook slightly, the realization of just how permanent the ramifications would be of her actions—her actions that she was dedicating to these nameless, flightless crows, these simple teenaged boys.

God, since when did she do things that sounded so… adolescent? So natural to her age and gender?

But it was more than that; she wasn't doing for their attention, so that they would see her above all else. She had a different resolve. She had a different reason. She had promised them that they would taste the sky once again, that they'd be able to leave the perch of their tree branches and feel freedom flood their hearts.

She had defied nature once, and she'd definitely do it again.

Even if it meant that Kalajoki would just become another city on the map to her.

"I'll look at Universities around Miyagi," she said firmly, her resolve being carved in stone.

"My grades will appeal to colleges—hopefully I will catch at least one university's attention that they have the possibility of someone with my numbers and background partaking in their curriculum," she intoned.

"I'm sure that I will be able to find a sponsor for myself."

"I'm sure you will," her counselor assured her with a small smirk, "bring it back once you've found one, and it will go into effect next year after you've trained for a while at the University of your choice. Good luck Apollonia-kun."

Apollonia bowed lowly and stepped out with her paper clutched in her grasp, though not enough to wrinkle its façade.

"What was that all about," a nearby professor inquired. The counselor made a small noise in the back of his throat, his mouth still cocked in an endeared smirk.

"It looks like Karasuno's Fallen Crows have found someone willing to nurse them back to health."

…

She walked in, seeing Sugawara slumped slightly in his seat with his hands placed lightly on his elbows, his chin resting on his desk as he looked over his forearms at the blank chalkboard in front of him. He seemed to acknowledge her presence, because as she stepped further inside the classroom, his eyes had shifted to the wall on his right side, shadowed as his eyebrows furrowed humbly.

She leaned over his desk, wordlessly placing the base of the paper lightly on his forearm.

He trailed his eye slightly to the side to regard to paper, scanning the page without actually reading it, though as certain words caught his attention, he straightened up slowly, and studied it, analyzed it, before his eyes shot open, his mouth had dropped, and he was staring at the Finn with an expression that was as amazed as it was grateful.

He struggled to stay composed as his brow creased again, his mouth growing wider and wider as chuckles slipped past. She grinned briefly before returning to her stoic state.

"You managed to persuade a trial run of having an athletic trainer, for us specifically," he asked, holding the paper in his hands as if it were a fragile piece of silk.

She nodded.

"So, even though we lost, you're still staying in Miyagi for your final year?"

She nodded.

Sugawara nearly burst out in grateful laughter as it finally occurred to him.

"So, you're even going to a University here too?"

She could bear looking him in the eye, seeing him so happy over something so trivial.

But she nodded anyway.

"Thank you, Apollonia-chan," she heard him say. She turned her head slightly towards him, her neck long and her mouth straight. She readjusted her composure, though found it difficult to mask the warm grin slowly taking her pale mouth, the glistening in her white lashes as they looked down at him and all his jovial glory.

"I'm sorry I wasn't at your matches," she began, her voice slightly deeper and far more stable than he had heard before, "but I had something to take care of first."

She plucked the paper lightly from Sugawara's hands, making her way over to her seat. Before she took her place in the sun, her hair glowing, her face bleached by light, she glanced over to him, and gave him probably to first sincere grin she had ever manifested.

"Next year, I will be able to stand on the court alongside you."

Sugawara's smile widened.

"Next year, you will soar. So, rest up now, because the journey doesn't stop here," she began before adding,

"As well, I'd like a jacket of my own, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Sugawara chuckled.

The bell rang, both swan and crow turning towards the front with their hands resting contentedly on their desktops.

Apollonia glanced down at her registration sheet, the sponsor line empty. She supposed she should have felt guilty that she was not able to lead them into the sky this year as she had promised, though as she shifted her calcite stare over to Sugawara, beaming like an idiot, she was not discouraged. This was her resolve.

The first thing she had to do before she taught them how to fly,

Was to mend their wings.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_So there is a bit of tension in the section where each player is describing their view of their defeat, because she had promised that she would teach them to fly again (which obviously, she didn't) but Finns are true to their word, and Apollonia will in fact play a part in their team, next year. She shirked all of their games, because she had to prepare for the exam ensuring her as an Athletic Trainer for their club._

_As well, she never claimed that she would help the third years (the same seniors she bore disdain for due to their callous reaction of her skill) so subconsciously, she was waiting for them to leave so that she could start anew with the second and first years, and anyone who joined thereafter._

_The next chapter after this one is the last chapter before the present storyline, it is a series of vignettes that depict her interaction with the team after she gains her sponsorship, and little things that contribute to her presence in the story, then after, we shall get to meet the ever precious Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi!_

_I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, feel free to pm me about anything, and have a good night!_


	6. Chronicles of the Swan

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_The bell rang, both swan and crow turning towards the front with their hands resting contentedly on their desktops._

_Apollonia glanced down at her registration sheet, the sponsor line empty. She supposed she should have felt guilty that she was not able to lead them into the sky this year as she had promised, though as she shifted her calcite stare over to Sugawara, beaming like an idiot, she was not discouraged. This was her resolve._

_The first thing she had to do before she taught them how to fly,_

_Was to mend their wings._

* * *

_One Year Before the Storyline_

_"Chronicles of the Swan."_

* * *

_"Learning Finnish."_

* * *

"Hmm, I see," Sugwara mused quietly, cupping his hand over his jaw, tapping his fingers along his cheek as he scanned the pages from end to end. The book clearly read, '_Welcome to Finland_,' in bold blue letters against a stark white background, Sugawara only realizing its playful symbolism after he learned that the flag of Finland bore said colors. He was shoved far back in the library, hopefully where none of teammates would find him, because honestly, Kiyoko would probably be the only one to venture anywhere near an area so abundant in books and knowledge.

"'Finns do not speak unless necessary, they do not like to spare their words for small talk and idle chatter. They are very direct,'" Sugawara read, sliding his finger across the page. "Ooh, that makes sense. Good, I thought she just didn't like us," he chuckled meekly, turning the page.

"'The customary greeting is a firm handshake with eye contact, or a nod of the head. Finns are not very physical people, and thus seldom hug or kiss as a greeting. The attitude regarding men and women as equals is quite distinct in Finland, therefore condescending attitudes towards women are rarely tolerated.'"

Sugawara set down the book, scratching the back of his neck. "I wonder if I should try to greet Apollonia-chan in a Finnish manner," he mused, though doing so might just confuse the Finn and halt what she learned about Japanese culture already, that and the mere thought of touching her thin, calloused hand terrified him.

"Maybe not," he mumbled, flipping a few pages over.

"'Finnish people are modest, and self-conscious, they will often downplay their accomplishments,'" he read, lifting his eyebrow, "So it _is_ a Finnish thing!"

A bit of script caught his eyes, "They admire, 'courtesy and speaking in a moderate tone'? How does she ever stand being around Nishinoya and Tanaka then," he chuckled. He turned a few more pages, before stopping on a few lines, smoothing over a glossy image and small print, chewing on the side of his lip as he brought the book closer towards him.

"The national bird is the Whooper Swan?"

He traced his thumb over the image of the waterfowl, his expression twisting in apprehension the more he regarded the bird.

That long, bowing neck, those pale feathers fit for only the regal and tall, that wide intimidating wingspan, that stoic expression…

"Sugawara what are you doing?"

"UWAAH!"

"Sh, keep it down you two or you'll be evicted from the library!"

"Sorry, ma'am," Sugawara answered in a whisper, holding his hands up in prayer as the librarian darted back around the corner. When she was efficiently out of sight, Sugawara lowered his hands and nearly recoiled in his seat as he swiveled around to Daichi.

"Daichi, why are you here," he answered in a strained whisper. The soon-to-be captain quirked a grin and pointed to the blue and white paperback that the setter was desperately trying to hide under his school shirt.

"I could say the same to you, that doesn't look like one of our school books," he chirped.

"Uuehh… I was just… educating myself was all. Can never had to much knowledge regarding other people's culture's right," he laughed weakly.

"Well, that's true," Daichi hummed in feigned agreement, "but I think the line is drawn at Chinese culture or even American culture for us." Daichi swiftly snatched the book from Sugawara's grasp, holding it out and away from him as he read, '_Welcome to Finland_,' loud and clear, earning a hard blush from the setter. "Oh, I wonder why of all cultures, Suga wants to learn about _Finland_, _specifically_," he mused.

Suguwara straightened up, fully prepared to retort with a well-thought out, eloquent answer, though found the words little more than consonants and unintelligible sounds as he tried to grasp for the book.

"You must have had to go to the public library for this, I don't think our school wouldn't carry anything regarding Finnic culture," he mused, opening up the pages and scanning the lines for himself. In an instant, his expression turned to something rather perturbed, "They hit themselves with tree branches?"

"I think it's a cleansing thing," Sugawara shrugged, "they do that in saunas."

"You mean, bathhouses?"

"No, saunas: it's a room where people sit in robes and sweat rather than submerging themselves in mineral water. They hit themselves with tree branches. I think it has something to do with circulation."

"The Finns are rather strange people, aren't they," Daichi mused, closing the book with a perplexed frown and handing it back to Sugawara. "So, I take it you want to learn more about Apollonia-san?"

Sugawara brought his hands up, "No-No, that's not it, I," he paused, glancing down at the bold, blue typeset printed across the page, scanning the images of smiling, happy towheads riddling the interior, the peculiar architecture and fashion that was represented within the pages. It was all fascinating, and a fair bit enlightening to know that much of Apollonia's behavior was true to her origins, rather than her acting unfavorably simply because they were foreign to her. As well, she was part of such a rich, fascinating culture, and a tumultuous history that he was never even aware of.

It was a funny feeling, having cognizance that other's cultures existed just beyond their walls, open only for the birds and sun in the sky to penetrate those barriers, but never before had he actually engulfed himself in acknowledging that such a culture existed—one that was drastically different than his own. True, people were born unique and had their own distinctive quirks, but this was the first time that he could tangibly feel it, he could feel it right beside him, as if a whole other species previously unknown to him had suddenly taken root next to him, bowed to him, and turned what he knew about culture upside down on its head.

She looked different, she smelled different, she ate differently than they did—though it was not just personal quirks, it was cultural, it was true to her own homeland just as eating with chopsticks and reading from right to left was for him.

As fascinating as it was—he still had a small part of him that felt like it was hiding in the dark, as if he were only strong enough to acknowledge her foreign eye shape and skin color, and nothing more. Despite being in her presence for nearly a year now, the words, 'Finn,' and 'Finland,' had been hammered in his brain more times than he could count—but he realized that he didn't know the first thing about the country. About Apollonia.

He knew Finland was near water and the people had a bizarre manner of speaking, but that was about it. It was like sitting next to a stranger. He couldn't connect to her as easily as he could others, because she was—obviously—not Japanese, there was a barrier that separated them. They may have fluidly connected through volleyball, and had come to the point where they could pass and play without words, but as her wings retracted and her feet met the ground once more, she was faceless, nameless, and formless.

"I just feel like I don't know anything about her," he finished. "She's trying her best to learn our culture, so I wanted to do the same."

"So, have you learned anything interesting about Finland, then," Daichi asked.

Sugawara turned to the page that held the bevy of swans, both in flight and wading the glittering waters of the Finnish coast, and creased the edge down as a makeshift bookmark before closing it and gently placing it in his bag. He turned back up a Daichi, offering a small grin before replying,

"Yeah, a little."

* * *

"_Namesake_."

* * *

"Apollonia-senpai?"

Apollonia turned to see first year, Ennoshita Chikara with fellow first years Kinoshita and Narita a step behind, holding their hands behind their backs, their heads slightly lowered. She regarded each one with a slight upturn of her pointed nose, looking down at them under a flurry of white eyelashes. Sparing no words, she waited for them to continue speaking, though it was an agonizing minute before the first years realized that she would not verbally respond. Ennoshita straightened up and bowed before her.

"Apollonia-senpai, what does your name mean?"

She craned her neck, her feathers a trifle bit ruffled. She tried to come to terms that the trio of unknown first years were actually making an effort to learn more about her, even if they were just inquiring about her namesake. She just stood like a tall, bleached wall of concrete, face vacant, scratching the back of her head, blankly staring at the three. They shrunk back uncomfortably, the bit of movement snapping Apollonia back to reality.

"Oh, uh…" she began hesitantly, finding it exceedingly difficult to speak so casually, about herself no less. Small talk was not entirely custom in Finland, especially among people that could be identified as strangers or even vague acquaintances. Though surely it had to be custom in Japan to speak freely and make attempts to converse with others in the hopes of striking a friendship. She cleared her throat, unintentionally startling the three even further.

"Manner translates to, 'Mainland,' and Eevastiina is Finnish for 'Life or Living,'" she clarified, rubbing her elbow as the trio nodded expectantly.

Her mouth shriveled into something akin to amusement, the menial fascination of the first years enough to fuel her voice, even as it came out halted and gauche.

"Apollonia is an homage to the Greek God, 'Apollo,' who was the God of Healing. He has also said to be the patron the sun, carrying it back and forth across the sky. Many birds were sacred to him, two being both the crow and the swan. So even though Greek mythology does not share strong ties with Finnic-Norse mythology, we do in fact admire him for holding those birds so close to his heart."

"That's so cool, Apollonia-senpai," Ennoshita exclaimed, both Narita and Kinoshita humming in agreement. "So the crow and swan are highly valued in your culture," he asked. Apollonia nodded.

"The crows were said to be the bringers of memory and knowledge, while the swan is the holiest of waterfowl in Finland. With its long neck, it was said to look over the entire world. It is also said one would suffer a horrible death if they were to ever slay a swan."

The first years flinched, their faces turning unnervingly blue, much to the Finn's chagrin. Realizing her misstep, Apollonia struggled to soften the edges of her statement since apparently the Japanese were not accustomed to the direct nature of Finnish dialogue. Though she stopped herself when Ennoshita's eyebrows rose, stepping forwards slightly.

"So, your name has nothing to do with apples?"

Somewhat amused, Apollonia shook her head.

"Do apples have any place in your culture," Kinoshita asked. "In Japan, apples are said to represent peace, while the apple blossom represents beauty."

Apollonia pondered the statement, picking at the nylon hem of her arm sleeve as she looked through the window at the Japanese-born trees outside. Even among these foreign first years, it felt like something of hers had given way, the words suddenly easy to profess—even if it was just common information that nearly ever Finn knew back home. It felt freeing, to share such details with them, even if they looked at her abashed with their shoulders slightly curving, their demeanors humble.

She almost broke her stoic façade in favor for a small grin. Almost.

"In Nordic stories, the apple was the fruit of choice for the Gods. It brought eternal life and beauty, and it was also seen as the fruit of rebirth. A way to start anew."

"To start anew," Ennoshita mused, "that's kind of like you, right? You came here to build a new life right? And to help us start again since our old coach collapsed?"

"Well, no," Apollonia began, though as the words Ennoshita spoke registered in her mind, it didn't seem that far off from the truth: she did want to give living abroad another try, in hopes of maybe gaining something more than stares and whispers from her peers around her, perhaps someone even vague enough to call an acquaintance, even if it was just one, even if they didn't say her name correctly, anything would have been satisfactory. And she did want to help the murder of crows rise again from the dirty, cold ground back into the fenceless sky, to feed their hunger for freedom, to quench their thirst of redemption. She identified with their aspirations, for the first time she actually felt a kinship to them, regardless of their language barrier, regardless of their separate faces and origins. Even if in the end, a medal was not set in their palms, she'd find a way to manifest their glorious, ebony wings.

She had fallen on her face the moment she set foot on the track at her middle school, the very track that rocketed her father to stardom. Redemption was more than just a word in her Finnish vocabulary.

"Yeah, I guess so," Apollonia finally concluded with a strained grin, as though the muscles in her face had not been used to produce such an expression.

"That's so cool, Apollonia-senpai," Narita chirped, "We should call you, 'Karasuno's Apple Tree!'"

Apollonia choked on a halted breath, her face a bizarre combination of purple and red.

"No, she should be, 'Karasuno's Finn,' or, 'Karasuno's Healer,' like that guy, Apollo," Kinoshita retorted.

Seeing that Apollonia had withered to nothing more than a gangly, blushing Finnish tree branch, scrunched on the floor with her face shoved in her knees, her arms crossed to shield most of her flushing head like a swan hiding in her bristles, Ennoshita could not help but chuckle.

"I think Apollonia-senpai needs a cooler nickname than that," he intoned. Turning towards Apollonia, he tapped her shoulder, bringing attention back up towards him.

"Senpai, how would you feel if we called you, 'Karasuno's Swan,' during practices?"

Apollonia glanced down at her right arm, covered in her bandages and passing sleeve, though tingling with a sensation she had never felt before; as if below the surface of her skin, something had ignited in her veins, though it did not manifest as aches or pains.

'_Karasuno's Swan_?'

The Swan among Crows.

From under her arms, she contorted a small grin, slightly marred by her biting lip.

"That is fine," she stated. The three first years nodded vigorously, hollering a unified, '_OSU_!'

"The first years seem to be warming up to Apollonia-chan, don't they," Daichi commented, elbowing Sugawara to turn towards the trio and Apollonia as they looked over her, gesturing to her tall stature and pale hair, Apollonia just shrugging back and fiddling with the back of her neck.

Sugawara grinned, "Looks like it."

* * *

_"Marked: Prologue."_

* * *

"So, this is what you want," he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his black cotton shirt, revealing the lines of skulls, flowers and metaphysical tears painting his arm. He fingered the paper, shifting it vertically, horizontally, bringing it closer and farther away from his face as he looked from the image to Apollonia. He made a noise of acknowledgement and set the paper down on his table, prodding the vials and bottles of ink off to the side.

Apollonia looked to be sweating bullets, a furious pink to her face as she looked at the vicious needle gun gracing his table, and the varying tips that hid under his class storage case. The man regarded her expression, offering a light, "Don't worry, kid, I'll take care of you."

Apollonia gulped, rubbing her thumbnail with the bottom of her index finger as she tried to tame her racing heartbeat.

"You got your parent's consent for this," he asked. Apollonia nodded and handed the paper over to him, a copy of her parent's signature that they had mailed solely for the occasion. The man looked over the eloquent note—written first in Finnish by her parents, then translated by Apollonia in Japanese. He hummed and set it aside, rubbing his hands against his distressed black jeans, complete with decorative rips and chains.

"Where do you want it," he asked, "I suggest you don't go near anywhere near bone if this is your first time."

Apollonia nodded, letting out a sharp breath as she pulled the edge of her sweatshirt up over her elbow. She flipped her arm over so that her wrist face facing up towards him. She gestured at the open, pale underbelly stretching from just below the crook of her elbow, down to her wrist.

"Right here," she said.

He pressed against her skin, judging the texture and color, and held the picture next to her outstretched arm. Pursing his lips, he nodded in satisfaction.

"Alright, have a seat kid, this'll take a while."

* * *

_"Marked."_

* * *

"Apollonia-chan, aren't you getting overheated in your sweatshirt?"

Said Finn shook her head—despite her ordinarily grey sweatshirt being absolutely drenched and muddy—and wiped the curve of her upper lip with the back of her hand. She glanced down to her wrist, which donned only her thick black brace, though not her accustomed bandages as an effort to let the ink still throbbing in her arm air out somewhat, without cloth or nylon squeezing them. She tugged the hem of her sleeve down, as if she were trying to hide something on her skin beneath the cotton.

It wasn't the first time she had behaved in that manner, Sugawara noted a while after she professed that she would return their third year as Karasuno volleyball's trial Athletic Trainer. Even when the weather would teeter on the warmer side, she was fully buttoned, and tugging her hems in place. She assured that her collar was fully covered, and her wrists never met the light of day. Initially, Sugawara had expected that the Finn was exceedingly modest—a little fact that he had picked up from the myriad of Finnish cultural dictionaries he checked out—but the level of modesty that Apollonia showed had transcended societal norms into realms rather suspicious.

Did she bear a scar, or an odd skin pigmentation that she was self-conscious of—did that have anything to do with the bandages she wore around her arm? She did seem especially tentative whenever she didn't wrap her arm, always cautious just how far up she'd roll her sleeve or extend for something beyond her reach. Whatever it was, it was nagging Sugawara to no end—and though it was intrusive that he was growing so curious as something so menial as what lie beneath her sleeve, the setter assured himself that he would definitely get to the bottom of just what Apollonia was hiding.

One day—thankfully it was excessively hot, on the verge of _scorching_ in fact—and Sugawara once again, for the thousandth time, offered that Apollonia remove her sweatshirt in order to avoid being burnt alive or at the very least, faint from loss of fluids. Though Apollonia, as clever as ever, had a response ready for him.

"I don't have a shirt," she claimed.

Though Sugawara was not entirely without his own ammunition.

"We have extra shirts, if you'd like."

"Yeah, Apple-san, you're going to die of heatstroke if you keep practicing in that big old sweater," Nishinoya added. Inwardly, Sugawara pumped his fist, gracious that Nishinoya was inadvertently advancing his little scheme. On cue, Tanaka whipped out a large white tee shirt from his bag, holding it out in front of the Finn.

"I was saving this to paint, but you can use it for today," he assured, a little too eagerly.

"Oooh, Ryuu, we should make Apple-san a shirt, one that says, 'White Crow,' on it," Nishinoya yelled, jumping on his fellow first year's shoulders.

"Sugoi-i-i, Noya-san, we should!"

_White Crow_?

Sugawara lifted his head slightly.

"White Crow," Apollonia inquired, her ivory eyebrow raised in speculation, though admittedly amused. She held the shirt hesitantly, though eventually turned and made off for the bathroom, still tugging at her hem.

…

"Perfect fit, Apple-san!"

"Tanaka, you shouldn't say that to a woman wearing a man's shirt," Daichi intoned.

Apollonia—though not exactly offended by his comment—still stood awkwardly in the shirt, her shoulders tense and scrunched near her ears, her arm flush against her stomach as she shuffled towards her bag. She kept her right arm firmly rooted to her body, opening and rummaging through her athletic carrier with her left. Though she tried to not be conspicuous about it, Nishinoya successfully exposed her by calling out,

"Apple-san is something wrong with your arm?"

His voice rattled along the gym, catching the attention of even Asashi who stood at the very end of the court wiping his face with a towel. A miniscule vein appeared in Apollonia's neck as she gritted her teeth, hand still shoved in her carrier, damning herself for burying her sleeves and bandages so far down into her bag.

"No, Nishinoya-kun."

"Then, why are you holding your arm like that? HWAH, do you have a scar?!"

"Shh, Nishinoya, keep your voice down," Daichi chastised.

Still, Nishinoya persisted and tried to pressure an answer out of Apollonia, pointing to all of his bruises covering his arms from practicing his receives. She regarded the little purple discolorations riddling his arm, turning his wrist slightly to gain a better look. Nishinoya surprisingly kept still under her touch, the feeling of her calloused hands rather frosty despite the horrendous weather.

Though when she unconsciously brought her other hand away from her body to further scrutinize the broken vessels muddying his skin, she flinched, realizing her mistake. Slowly her eyes traveled up his petite arm up to his face, nearly petrified for the ramifications.

Needless to say, his jaw was slacked open—beyond astounded, beyond shocked, beyond any words conservative or abstruse, as if he had seen something unbelievably mystifying for the very first time.

"S-s-ss…"

Apollonia froze.

"SO COOOOL, APPLE-SAN!"

Apollonia recoiled and fell over on her side, clutching her arm back to her stomach, curling so that the limb was hidden her folded shirt. Nishinoya dived down and straddled the Finn, trying to pull at her arm, though Apollonia proved superior by holding her left hand out against his chest.

"Apple-san, let me see, let me seee!"

"Nishinoya, get off of her," Daichi hollered, ripping the libero off like Velcro.

"But Daichi-saaan, it's so cool! Apple-san, why didn't you tell us?"

Daichi looked down at Apollonia, only to find her stretching a nylon sleeve over her arm, snapping it in place from elbow to wrist before standing back up on her feet. She brushed herself off, taking off towards Sugawara and Asahi on the other side of the court, gesturing that he toss the ball to her, and uttered not another word.

Daichi, still with a firm hold on Nishinoya, looked down at their libero and asked, "What was on her arm?"

Tanaka too leaned in as they watched Apollonia adjusted her compression socks, tugging on her sleeve as she stuck the ball under her arm.

Nishinoya had his arms crossed, both amused and impressed, his mouth quirked into a haughty smirk as he watched Apollonia and Sugawara striking a rally. Though to both Daichi and Tanaka's surprise,

He did not speak.

...

"I hope that you weren't offended by Nishonoya today, Apollonia-chan," Sugawara offered lightly, trying to verbally smooth the crease that had marred Apollonia's normally stoic brow. She appeared to still be simmering over being straddled and essentially harassed by a first year barely of average height for a Japanese woman, though by law of her Finnic reserve, she wasn't about to voice her irritation so openly unless provoked. They walked towards the Foothill Store, where Sugawara was hoping that the inhumanly health-conscious Finn would at least indulge him in a calming cup of tea courtesy of the headband-donning shopkeeper. He often cited her growing frame, now at an impressive one hundred and eighty-three centimeters that was sure to rival even Asahi's stature, as an excuse to treat herself to healthful tea to nourish her brutish height.

Apollonia—her mouth tense and sucked under her teeth—sighed quietly through her nose, flickering her eyes down towards the setter beside her. The sunlight was slowly fading, staining her eyelashes a dirty gold, while his ashen hair had taken a burnt orange hue. Had he not been blessed with the superior eyesight that he had, he could have sworn that merely the trick of light was enough to visually soften her face, but even in a gentle light her face was threatening, whether it be intended or not.

She did not respond to him, though politely held the door open as they reached the Foothill Store, following him in after giving her a humble, 'thank you.' As she entered the store, her head slowly swiveled from side to side, taking in the colors of the walls, the products on the shelves, the unnervingly terse-looking man sitting behind the counter with a cigarette dangling off his lower lip. He raised his eyebrow to the two before blowing a ribbon of smoke through his nose, and returned to his newspaper. Sugawara sat at the table near the window, ushering for Apollonia to sit across from him.

"Don't make a ruckus, you two," the shopkeeper warned.

Sugawara nodded and turned to Apollonia: she was rummaging through her bag, pulling out several magazine of what looked to be sport's medicine suppliers, complete with color-coded page markers and little post-its with notes assumedly about the cost and use—assumedly, considering that of course, Apolloia documented everything in Finnish. Sugawara raised his eyebrows, amazed that she was putting so much effort into her position as Athletic Trainer, even if it was just a trial, even when the worst they usually suffered during games was bruises and a bloody nose.

"That's amazing," Sugawara hummed. Apollonia's eyes shot up at him from under her eyelashes, slightly perplexed by his remark. "You really are into this, aren't you, Apollonia-chan?"

Apollonia made a sound Sugawara assumed to be meant as an affirmation, adding, "Well, I do intend this to be my career."

Slightly taken off-guard by her direct manner of speaking, Sugawara nodded uneasy, muttering, '_Right, right_,' while wringing his hands under the table. Apollonia caught her misstep by being so curt with him, adding lightly, "You should look through these and tell me what would suit you and the others. There are some bright colors of under-wrap in one of these."

Though her small talk wasn't exactly inviting, or even genial enough to be identified as 'small talk,' Sugawara grinned and picked up one of the magazine, flipping though the sections she had not yet marked. The sound of their blistered fingers rubbing and turning the papers, their feet shuffling as they switched their crossed ankles was the only audible sound within the Foothill Store, along with the occasional quiet cough from the shopkeeper.

"I was thinking about getting a cold roller, but that's really only effective after exercising, as recovery. Maybe I could keep it back at Karasuno and use a normal travel roller for games," Apollonia offered, her voice halting and abrasive, a strained look taking her rock-solid face. It was an extremely poor attempt at idle chitchat that she was endeavoring, her eyes dark under her eyelashes, brimming with self-consciousness. She was searching for some sort of solace in Sugawara's face, anything to ensure that her efforts weren't all for not. Sugawara took note of her struggle with defying her Finnic nature, her inherent practice of enduring silence whether the other party felt it uncomfortable or not.

Just that fact that she was not only putting so much energy into her Athletic training, but her social integration as well was enough to put a bright smile on Sugawara's face, even in the dim, indigo nightfall.

"That sounds pretty fair. Did you want to get one of those stick rollers, or these foam cylinders? I'm guessing the ball would be too cumbersome, and knowing the first years, they might mistake it for a volleyball," Sugawara laughed. He reduced his noise level to light chuckles, opening his eyes to see Apollonia wearing an odd expression. It was blank, as if she hadn't initially heard him, though there was softness beneath her skin, even under the odd coloring of the store lights. He went silent, searching for the color peeking from between her white eyelashes as she looked at him, though the longer they held each other's attention, their faces shared an identical pink as they returned to solid ground.

Apollonia snapped her head back down toward her magazine, Sugawara doing the same.

Apollonia damned herself for staring, a faux pas so potent in Finland and she assumed Japan as well.

Sugawara damned his heart for beating so fast just looking at her long, foreign face.

"Hey, you two, shop's closing. So move it or lose it."

"Oh, yes sir," Sugawara answered, gathering the magazines he held over on his side, propping the door open as Apollonia slung her bag over her shoulder.

…

"Here are your magazines back," Sugawara offered, "let me know if you need help. I may not be a medic trainee like you, but it never hurts to have another person to look things over."

Apollonia nodded, placing the magazines back in her bag before continuing with her long-legged stride, their steps apparent, though oddly silent. As they made their way down the street, from afar it would have been a humorous sight to behold that even when the air was as black as ink, their pale tresses were the only stain of color that stood out in the nightlight. They walked past a lone street lamp, though Apollonia slowed to a stop underneath, glancing up at the fluttering moths above her head.

Sugawara turned around to see that she was fiddling with the nylon sleeve under her sweatshirt, slipping it down over her wrist and fingers. Sugawara took small, quiet steps towards her—as if he would send her running if he moved any swifter—Apollonia kept her arm firmly at her side. He couldn't see her eyes with the light shining directly down on her alabaster head, though it was not her eyes that he was preoccupied with as she twitched her right hand, bringing it slowly out in front of her.

"I've wanted one since I was younger, my father had one across his back. It's sort of tacky: it's a banner on his back that says, 'Long Live the Flying Finn,' that goes from shoulder to shoulder. Initially I wanted this as a nod to Finland, to my culture, but after coming here and meeting all of you, it sort of has taken on a different meaning."

She flipped her arm over, revealing the frail, though immaculately depicted swan feather stretching from her elbow to her wrist on the underbelly of her forearm. Everything about it was mesmerizing—the downy fluff all the way to the wispy bristles that extended from the stem. Sugawara opened his mouth in shock, unconsciously bringing his hand up to trace the tattoo. Even though it was just ink under her skin, he could feel the gentle silken texture of a true swan feather as if it were not an image at all, but a tangible feather rooted in her arm, like one of a thousand bristles gracing a wing's skeleton.

Apollonia brought her arm back down to her side, letting her sleeve fall naturally. Though it was just a tattoo, and though its symbolism had changed in the wavering winds between the two continents, Apollonia felt something take hold on her tongue—as if despite her nature, she had become so willing to share such menial conversations with the meek setter before her.

And somehow… she felt contented.

* * *

"_Pain and Healing_."

* * *

"Hn!"

It was no secret that Asahi had a powerful spike, something more daunting that the swing of a bear's hand: quick and violent beyond compare. And it was no secret that no matter who was on the receiving end of his swing—whether it be the skillfully- groomed Daichi or the fearless libero Nishinoya—Asahi's spikes hurt worse than anything they had ever experienced.

So it was custom that they expected a fair reaction from Apollonia, the first time she felt Asahi's power first hand: but they just expected her to brace for the impact, receive, then recover, shaking out her arms moments later.

But it paralyzed them when she collapsed to the floor, and her entire body began to shake. Asahi gripped the space around his ears, pulling on his swept back tresses until they fell out of his tie.

"Apollonia-san, I'm so sorry!"

He was trembling over her. His hands were out in front of him, vibrating so violently that his whole body had begun to rattle, his teeth clattering. Apollonia had curled into herself, trying to stop the violent twitching in her arms, her veins pulsing blue out of her skin the more she tried to hide it. It was as if gasoline had been shot into her arms, a thousand matches ignited the moment Asahi's spike met her skin. Even the painted feather hidden beneath her sleeve had erupted, feeling twice as scorched as the rest of her body.

She gripped her wrist, biting down hard until she swore she could hear her molars crack, the threads in her hand rising, her clawed talons covering her face as shockwaves of agony swam down her arm, across her shoulder, through her back, core and hips until it detonated again in her right knee. Her leg jerked up towards her chest before whipping back down. Tanaka hopped off to the side to avoid a hard Finnic kick in the shin. He watched the muscles along her leg pulsing, from her toes to her calves, up the long line of her hamstrings and quadriceps, like violent ripples of wading waters.

Her breath was quiet but serrated as she shoved her arm and head against the court, bringing herself to her knees and elbows, fighting the convulsions. She began coughing: it was a short, curt sound that was more of a grasp for self-restraint than anything else, and flexed every muscle in her fingers until the tremors in her arm was silenced. Breathing heavily through her nose, her chest fluttering underneath her sweatshirt, she stayed in her position, mortified that she would cause such a scene in front of these people who professed to admire her, who had thanked her. She was kneeling on the floor, sweating, her body inflamed with agony, while they hovered over her.

She was supposed to be their Athletic Trainer and yet here she was sprawled across the floor holding her arm after a simple receive attempt.

"I'm sorry," she muttered against her knees, feeling humiliated that she had held herself in a such a manner, such an undignified, fragile manner that would have any Finn turn their head in disgust.

"What are you talking about," she heard Sugawara's muffled voice.

"Apollonia-san please let us know if you're alright. Do you need medical attention," came Daichi's firm, albeit alarmed command.

Slowly, she sat up on her knees, leaning and stretching her legs out in front of her. They looked stringier than she remembered them being before—she had prided herself on having strong Nordic legs, yet the two roots out in front of her look about as robust as a newborn stem off of a trunk.

She held her arm out in front of her, finding the sharp, rattling pain had mostly vanished, leaving it feeling like an empty shell. It was now tense and firm, as if she had been shackled once more, forced face down into the dirt as she had years prior. The damned injustice of it all was enough to put a scowl on her face, her lip being sucked in between her teeth as she tried to grasp for the strength she had trained to build up for nearly ten years. Yoga, stretching, strengthening, everything to get her at the prestigious level she had boasted before them, now shattered in front of her with one swipe of his hand.

The tension in her arm was agonizing: she couldn't successfully move anything, her joints like metal on metal, edges sharp and toothed, catching her if she even ventured beyond her reach. Even if by the grace of God she had returned his serve, she's likely not be able to even lift a finger in opposition if it was sent right back at her.

She felt worthless, pathetic, so weak before their eyes when they praised her so much for her mighty span, her almost poetic strength and drive.

She could hear her breath, not able to believe that she could even hold her head up after such a merciless defeat. She looked at Asahi next to her, the guilty stain in his eyes heartbreaking. He was mouthing something to her, she had to assume he was speaking, because the force of his sobbing breaths was strong against her shoulder.

'_I'm sorry, I'm sorry_.' Is what it looked like. But she couldn't hear, she couldn't hear a thing.

She could only feel the cold shackles in a vice grip over her joints: her wrist, her elbow, her shoulder and knee all up and down her muscles like venom in her bloodstream. She hastily pulled at her nylon sleeve, hoping that it would relieve the pressure on her arm, to loosen the shackles even just a little bit.

But as she bore down at her bare arm, the illusory feathery stared back up at her just lay as a useless image on her arm, a swan's bristle crushed under the justice of gravity. A large bruise sat at the end of her wrist: broad, purple and ugly against the pale underbelly of her skin. She had seldom received in volleyball—someone usually faster and swifter taking her place for the dive—and never before had she faced a strength as Asahi's. It was the first time she had ever worn a bruise on her skin—she had such a tough hide that even the violent fall she took on the track did little scratch her knee. But this… This blemish was real, so excruciating to the touch, so bold in color; Apollonia had never seen something quite as stupefying as it on her skin, right above the wafting feather on her arm…

It was petrifying.

Her heart nearly stopped the more she watched the purple overtake her skin, like a disease, like her shackles.

'_I'm sorry, I'm sorry_,' she could hear him say, the words loud like whirring engine.

She staggered to her feet, throwing her sleeve off to the side, running a trembling hand through her hair before whipping her bag over her shoulder, nearly sprinting out the door.

"I'm sorry," was all she offered.

…

"Apollonia-chan!"

She kept walking, there was no possible way she could afford to turn around and face him after the display she put on—a selfish display of weakness, of worthlessness.

"Apollonia-chan, wait!"

But after a misstep, her knee jutted out improperly, every bit of ash and coal from before igniting in her leg, the shrapnel tearing her muscles apart. She shoved her arm out to the side, balancing herself on a nearby wall, trying to stretch out her quadriceps and knee while Sugawara ran up beside her. Once she regained feeling in her limbs, she stalked on forwards, limping slightly, though holding her head as high up as she could with little of her pride left.

Fearing that he would do more harm than good grabbing onto her arm, Sugawara ran in front of her and held out his arms, his small, lithe body oddly intimidating against Apollonia's curled, withered posture. She looked at him with a stare sterner than he had ever seen from her, openly vocalizing, '_Do not stand in my way_.'

But Sugawara didn't budge.

"Apollonia-chan," he started solidly.

Apollonia narrowed her eyes in the dim moonlight, the calcite unnervingly sharp as she glowered at him.

"What's wrong with you," he asked.

Apollonia snapped her head up, her face startled by his offense.

"You won't tell us what's wrong. How can we help you if we don't know what's going through your head?"

"Do not concern yourself with my medical shortcomings," Apollonia deadpanned, her back suddenly becoming erect with the building agitation in her stomach.

"Apollon-" he reached out to tug on her shirt's hem when she made her way past him, instead accidentally shoving her shoulder, sending the Finn to the ground in a violent tremor of agony. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Seeing that Apollonia flinched under his volume, he subdued to his voice to a whisper, crouching down next to her.

"I'm sorry, Apollonia-chan."

Apollonia did not respond, staring aimlessly into the starless sky, covered by clouds and the dim, sickly glow of streetlights. The jolt in her arm had subsided, the sound of her breath evening out. She brought her ankles together, lifting her knees a bit closer to her chest, before shifting her peripheral towards Sugawara. He could hear her sign softly, placing her arms over her knees, her head stretched high as she bit her tongue for words.

"I didn't want to go to the doctor," she started, Sugawara quiet with astonishment, though marred by the vagueness of her words.

"But eventually in Finland, I was taken, because I was constantly exhausted, tired, aching, sick, everything."

Her parents assumed it was just an unfortunate side effect of all the studying and exercising she did, paired with her conflicted genetics, though even with rest and medication, she still did not improve.

"It is not an illness per se, nothing concrete like that. But it is a lack of health; that's the best way I can describe it."

Sugawara nodded slightly, allowing her to continue.

"They perform many tests on you, like how they judge your allergies, and essentially when all else literally fails, they conveniently put a name on it, saying that you are not actually sick, just unfortunate in composition."

Sugawara made to question her explanation, though found himself silenced by the Finn as she fully turned her head towards him.

"There is no actual diagnosis for it, and no real cure, because it itself is not entirely genuine in form. It just means that no matter how much rest I get, I'll be consumed by pain and sickness everyday, that my body cannot adequately rebuild itself like yours. The best I can do is stretch, eat healthfully and get over it."

"So that's why you collapsed," Sugawara posed, though immediately regretted speaking so openly as Apollonia's eyes shot open, bright with humiliation.

"It felt like Hell had crushed my arms and legs right in front of me. It by far was the most terrifying sensation I have ever felt," she mused, staring at the bruise under her wrist.

"So its like sensory overload when you receive?"

"Essentially," she deadpanned.

Sugawara hummed quietly in response, bringing his knees up close in parallel to Apollonia. The two were quiet for some time, a small orchestra of chirping night bugs gracing their overall somber company.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"You keep saying that, but I don't know what you're sorry for," Sugawara countered.

Apollonia's face immediately dropped, looking far from amused or even remotely composed that Sugawara was making it exceedingly difficult for her to continue wearing her Finnic stoicism on her sleeve.

"For running away," she said slowly, as if she were trying not to grind her teeth. "It was rude of me to run out on practice like that."

Sugawara grinned, though he tried to hide it under his collar.

"Just because you're the medic, doesn't mean we can't help you with your own wounds," he chirped, holding up Apollonia's nylon sleeve.

Apollonia reached over to grab her discarded sleeve, until Sugawara callously flipped her wrist—instigating a sharp flinch from the Finn—though he quickly undid a Band-Aid and placed it over the bruised skin, then placed the sleeve gently in her open palm. Apollonia glanced at bandage—a horrid, colorful little thing with dancing kittens, or something unnervingly Japanese on it—then back at Sugawara.

Her mouth had contorted into an odd shape—not quite and smile, though not entirely a frown, yet it bore more emotion than she usually portrayed. She nodded and placed the sleeve in her bag, smoothing out the painted bristles on her forearm.

Somehow, such a gaudy piece of medical tape proved strong enough to loosen the shackles, just a little bit.

Still, Apollonia did not hesitate to mention:

"Sugawara-kun, that's not the correct way you treat bruises."

…

"Asahi-san."

Asahi turned around to see Apollonia in a low bow to him, her ivory fringe hanging over her brow like little wispy cobwebs. Asahi too bowed, feverously ready to profess every guilty word and apology he had harbored from the day before. He opened his mouth, though Apollonia quickly beat him to the punch.

"Asahi-san, I would like to apologize for running out yesterday, and I would like the apologize if you feel remorseful that the reason I reacted was due to your spike."

She straightened up, meeting his tender earthy eyes with her deep-rooted mineral hue.

"It is not at all your fault, I should inform you. It was a fantastic spike, I was just not ready for it."

She bowed again, her neck stretched high as she leveled herself.

"I must ask a favor of you, Asahi-san, one that will help us both grow and improve."

"Yes, Apollonia-san?"

"I want you to serve to me, as hard as you can, everyday until I can stand with both feet firmly planted on the ground."

Asahi's eyes widened, his hands quickly shooting up in opposition. He didn't want to risk her collapsing again, risk breaking her, ripping her apart like a feather in a storm.

But Apollonia stood stronger than anyone he had ever seen before, right there in front of him, face even and unassuming.

She held out a volleyball to him, and despite their heights separated by a mere centimeter, she proved to stand so much taller than him, stronger than him, far more terrifying that someone with a glass heart like him. Staring earth to calcite set his body on fire, quickly frosting against the rime of her skin as his fingers overlapped hers on the ball. It was not a request, but an order, almost as terrifying as the voice of Daichi.

A small crow was he, ducking slightly away as her neck craned, boasting authority and grace beyond his favor. Quietly he sighed, preparing for the attack as Apollonia made her way to the other side of the court.

Even from so far away, as she held her arms out from her sides, he could catch a glimpse of that little feather peeking from her sleeve, as pale as ivory, and soft as the billowing silken clouds in the sky.

He tossed the ball into the air, finding that she did not waver.

Her legs clenched for the impact, and as the ball soared to meet her skin yet again, she had resolved

She'd endured.

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**

_So, this is the (loooong-ass) last chapter posed a year before the present storyline, so next chapter, we will get to meet all of the lovable freshmen: Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi!_

_I wanted to end this 'arc' on a lighter note, since the last chapter was a bit dreary. I hope you enjoy, be sure to let me know what you think!_

_Also, if no one guessed it: Apollonia has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome: its essentially a bunch of symptoms that can be grouped together as a general autoimmune __deficiency. Think of the hardest workout you've ever had, and then the aching, painful feeling the next day. Essentially, Apollonia feels like that everyday: but she doesn't recover like a normal human body, she continues feeling that pain and exhaustion longer after the fact._

_Be sure to check out my tumblr (bergliot-manner), where you can see Apollonia with her new tattoo! Her father is a bit of an ink-addict due to his college shenanigans, so there's another trait passed down from dear old daddy, 'Swan.'_


	7. Reunion: Ballad of the Carrot

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_Even from so far away, as she held her arms out from her sides, he could catch a glimpse of that little feather peeking from her sleeve, as pale as ivory, and soft as the billowing silken clouds in the sky._

_He tossed the ball into the air, finding that she did not waver._

_Her legs clenched for the impact, and as the ball soared to meet her skin yet again, she had resolved_

_She'd endure._

* * *

_One Year Before the Storyline_

_"Hinata's Bathroom Adventures: Prologue."_

* * *

"Urggh. So. M-many. Scary. People."

Hinata was struggling to stay on his feet, despite being absolutely overwhelmed by the immaculate amount of middle school athletes; athletes who, in fact, were probably tall enough to touch the ceiling without standing on a ladder, and damned it, they were just walking around ever so casually. He had been circling around for a decent while, finishing enough laps to qualify him for a five kilometer relay, eventually earning the intrigued attention of a certain alabaster-feathered foreigner.

She had gone is search of Sugawara, who had gone in search of food and, by her request, coffee, though found herself looping around some off-kiltered hallway. She glanced around for any noticeable Japanese sign that would redirect her to the gym, or anywhere else for that matter, but found herself beguiled by the trembling, sweating, and apparently physically ill middle school student limping before her.

"S-s-scary-y-y," the boy groaned quietly to himself.

By the name of Kalajoki, Finland, the poor girl's heart nearly stopped.

'_H__is hair is so... orange_. _Like a little carrot_.'

It was the lone thought Apollonia could muster as what could only be described as one of the smallest Japanese boys she had ever seen, just lurching along the wall, his hand sweating and smearing across the paint as he struggled to stay upright, holding his stomach in agony. He was grumbling under his breath, cowering slightly when those taller and more intimidating than him would pass him by, which essentially, was everyone.

His heart burst from his chest when some merely one hundred and seventy centimeters walked past him; and here she was, fully grown to the unnatural height of one hundred and eighty-five centimeters, reaching out a still hand to him for condolence. Not surprisingly when their two eye lines met, he immediately froze up, sweating bullets as he shouted,

"T-T-TAAALLL!"

Apollonia sucked back on her lips, recoiling at his volume alone.

"Are you alright," she managed to ask, despite the violent battle she was having inside, trying to keep her skin color tame as she regarded this shivering frame. But the vibrant hue of his hair and the innocent terror in his eyes was far too pathetic to keep a passive face.

He was just so… _heartbreakingly_ _small._

He wasn't just petite and thin like Nishinoya, he was _so_ pathetically fragile, and _so_ unbearably meek like a newborn kitten, a trembling leaf barely grown on the stalk of the smallest plant in the most barren garden.

No no no, she had felt this sensation a year before, when she came face to face with the libero of all liberos. It was that tingling, gnawing feeling in her stomach that made her ill, but not to the point where she would upheave her small Finnish breakfast of porridge for all to see. It was that feeling that made her skin scorch, her face flush every possibly hue of red that ever had existed.

She quickly slammed her jaw shut when the audible sound of her teeth clattering together had broken their mutual silence—though her's was forced, while Hinata's was petrified. Focusing on a spot beyond his head—good God he was so small she could probably fit him easily in her bag—Apollonia took a deep, quiet breath, paving her face smooth and impassive as ever.

Hinata looked up into her hard calcite eyes, hidden under a pale curtain of white, and despite her face being slightly eclipsed as she looked down at him, it was as if she were generating her own light—a daunting, foreboding light that was in no way, shape or form inviting—through her iris, refracting a thousand different ways before they met his.

He took a loud gulp of fear, and scrunched into what Apollonia assumed to be a fight-or-flight posture.

"U-uggh, mu-mu-mister, where are the bathrooms," he asked, holding his stomach once more as his intestines fully digested his fear and seemed to be rising back up as full blown terror.

Apollonia felt her stoicism slip as she snorted softly, biting her lip until it threatened to bruise. She brought her long, bandaged arm up past his head, pointing with an outstretched index finger towards an open turn at the end of the hallway, prodding the air where a sign that read, '_Bathrooms_,' bold and clear at the intersection.

Immediately, Hinata sprung to his feet, taking off in a mad sprint towards the hallway in which Apollonia gestured to, and shouted,

"THANK YOU, SHIRO-SAN!"

Apollonia slapped her forehead with her mighty palm, her face exploding in color as she fell to her knees.

"Apollonia-chan, what are you doing, what's wrong with you?!"

Sugawara darted from around the corner over towards his fallen comrade, flipping her over on her back, only to see that she was limp, and furiously red, as if the sun itself had charred her.

"Apollonia-chan, pull yourself together!"

But Apollonia was too far-gone. She raised a shaking hand, towards the light as if God would just reach down and snatch her from her mortal frame, and hoarsely she muttered,

"P-p-porkkana."

* * *

_Present_

_"The Return of The Swan: Prologue."_

* * *

"HRUUGH!"

"Do you think we pushed her too hard, Shimizu," Daichi intoned, holding his head slightly to the side in half-effort to avoid looking directly at her.

"H-HRU-UGH-H!"

Kiyoko grimaced, shutting one eye and bringing her clipboard up to shield her face as she watched the Finn's entire body shudder. "I don't think ten laps around the gym in seven minutes was too much to ask," she responded, cringing when Apollonia began violently coughing.

"She did say she was coming back from the flu, so she's not at her top performance just yet," Sugawara commented.

"HHHRRRUUGH!"

Needless to say, Apollonia—the legendary Finn with volleyball prowess they had never seen in the likes of Japan, the same person who swore she would have hand in teaching these fallen crows how to fly again, who bore wings as glorious as alabaster and strength as daunting as the arms of both Heaven and Hell…

Was vomiting the entire capacity of her stomach into a rather large trashcan, with her arms splayed out in front of her over the opposite end of the rim, half of her body almost lost in the wide basin as she emptied what little food and bile she had left harboring in her body—with explicit additional sound effects for their listening pleasure of course.

"Hrrrgh…"

"Is she done?"

They watched as Apollonia did little more than twitch and groan into the trashcan, slung over it like a wet piece of paper. They slowly strode up to her, freezing whenever her back would arch uncomfortably after a sharp lurch. Sugawara proved to bear the bravest heart as he made his way beside her, stepping lightly on his toes as not to startle her. Gently he set his hand on her shoulder, though did his best to avoid looking directly at the horror she had emptied into the bin.

"Apollonia-chan?"

"Uuurrrggh…"

"Apollonia-chan, are you alright?"

Apollonia slowly staggered to a slouched position, holding the rim of her bile reciprocal firmly in her grasp. Dingy sheets and emaciated spirits paled in comparison to her ill, sunken face: her jaw was slack as she fruitlessly tried to breathe through her teeth, one eye blinking a little more solidly than the other, her skin more like the side of a glacier than anything else. She nodded her head weakly, groaning as she forced herself into a more dignified form of standing.

However, Tanaka came sprinting to their side, with his arms raised, took a deep hollow breath and hollered,

"OI GUYS, LET'S GO GET NIKUMAN AFTER PRACTICE!"

"HHHRRRUUUGHH!"

"DAMMIT, TANAKA!"

* * *

"Return of the Swan: Expectations."

* * *

Upon starting the new school year, Sugawara had taken the initiative to occupy the seat on Apollonia's right—as the Finn had once again chosen her preferred spot by the window facing out towards the luscious greenery and gardens—while Daichi, who luckily joined them that year in Class Four, sat behind Apollonia, unfortunately only seeing only the top two thirds of the blackboard, the last third being her feathered, ivory mane.

Though Apollonia assured that she would not be opposed to switching seats with Daichi, the captain ultimately refused—seeing a perfect opportunity to duck behind the Finn's alert stature and thus avoid being the center of attention for especially inquisitive professors. Apollonia merely regarded Daichi with a shrug.

It was but a few days after a certain carrot-haired jumper and a certain sour-faced King had royally pissed the ever-authoritative Volleyball Captain off beyond compare, resulting in their own temporary blacklisting from the gym until they could properly act as teammates. Apollonia—much to Tanaka's disdain, as he wanted to immediately challenge the Finn to a game and show her just how high he was able to jump now—was busy with organizing her medical supplies, and typing up essays and spreadsheets.

She was obliged to take excruciatingly detailed notes depicting the team's health—then tracking their journey as they improved and faltered, and how she would apply herself to reverse their descent whether it be prescribing rehabilitation exercises, stretching, massages, fixing their technique, etc. etc. And Apollonia, true to her upright, pensive demeanor, had bought a myriad of notebooks: color-coded and separated by positions, year and skill level: Middle Blockers, Libero, Wing-Spiker, and Setter each bearing their own booklet, along with one large notebook that would house her immediate ideas and thoughts, so that she may record them later in their respective spirals. She even had certain pens dedicated to each book.

Sugawara had to note that despite how nonchalant or dispassionate Apollonia showed to be, she had a certain kind of finesse when it came to meticulous details, especially tedious, unnecessary ones.

So, as Apollonia sat at her desk, her notebooks splayed around her, her index and middle finger smoothing the skin from her lips to her chin as she propped her elbow on the table, Sugawara took the daring move to break her from her almost impenetrable concentration.

"Apollonia-chan?"

Silence.

"Apollooonia-chan."

Again, impenetrable.

"Apollonia!"

Almost impenetrable.

The Finn perked her ears, the bleached ends of her eyelashes shifting as they snapped over to Sugawara with a startled blink. He had that trademark grin of his, slightly cocked, two perfect rows of teeth peeking out from under his youthful Japanese lips, his little tear mole high upon his cheek. Apollonia had half a mind to scold him for intruding on her work, but found the engaging quality of his spirit more beguiling than annoying. With a soft exhale of defeat; she faced her shoulders towards the setter, signaling her undivided attention.

"We have some interesting first years that want to join," Sugawara tried to mention casually, leaning slightly towards the Finn from his desk. Apollonia hummed, though her assumed interest sounded more feigned than genuine; Sugawara chalked it up to her irritation of being taken from her work, as well as her disdain for small talk. Though even with that in mind, he continued.

"They're both very talented, in their own way," he pressed.

Apollonia simply blinked.

"I believe that with a little bit of help, they could improve themselves substantially before they play their match together with the other first years," he pushed.

Apollonia's bleached brow darkened softly, a Finnish gesture essentially stating, '_Please, be direct_.'

"I've been helping one of them out with the basics, and I was wondering if you could help the other one with his technique," Sugawara finally admitted. "Do you remember that setter from Kitagawa?"

"The brooding one," Apollonia deadpanned.

"Yeah," Sugawara answered, "He's the 'genius-type,' and I thought he would do well under your supervision. I want you to help train him. You could even join me to help as well, the other one is very underdeveloped with his receives."

There was a small beat between the two.

"No."

Sugawara was quickly growing wearied by Apollonia's straight-forward nature—for there were instances in fact where she was possibly _too_ direct. Sugawara held back the urge to throw his head back and cry out, '_WELL, WHY NOT?!_' and returned Apollonia's cold retort with a breathy sigh.

Catching on that she had apparently either insulted or disheartened the setter, Apollonia released a bit of tension in her shoulders, applying a little more pressure to the edge of her desk, looking at Sugawara with an expression that was trying its damnedest to seem softer than it was.

"If he is a genius, then he should be smart enough to realize that he needs to benefit himself by first swallowing his pride. You did say that they were banned because they could not act as teammates after all, did you not?"

"Well, yes that was part of it," Sugawara mused, raking his fingers through the small hairs on the nape of his neck. "So, you're saying that he needs to put his talents aside and try to work together with his fellow first year on his own?"

Apollonia slowly nodded, affirming Sugawara's interpretation. She watched as she instigated a firm self-congratulatory gesture out of the setter, apparently praising himself: for after a year of reading Finnish culture dictionaries, looking over Finnish poetry, even listening to Finnish music—a truly bizarre experience he swore to never endure again—Sugawara felt as though he cracked the proverbial, 'Finnish Code,' that often left the two simmering in their own separate thoughts. Apollonia arched her eyebrow, slightly lifting her chin and nose to him, quickly humbling the setter with just a minor shift in her face.

Though, feeling as though the conversation was not yet completed, Apollonia—for once—felt the urge to contribute to their discussion, wetting her bottom lip before adding:

"They may be adversaries at the moment, but even clashing personalities must be able to connect on the court, both the brooding one and his rival need to understand that," she noted haltingly, fiddling with the end of one of her notebooks as if she were uncomfortable hearing her own voice.

"Right," Sugawara hummed in agreement, "Now, they are each other's most formidable ally. I'm sure they will be able to bring out something great in one another. They're both really accomplished in their own manner, and the first years they are playing against seem adept in their own right too. Well, they're both tall, at least."

Apollonia regarded his remark with a soft nod, before turning back to her stack of spirals, straightening them, and re-straightening them as if she were calculating the degree rotation and per cubic centimeter of space they occupied.

Sugawara determined it to be an apprehensive fidget, as if to say, '_Too bad I won't be there to see it._'

"Do you still need to go back to the college for further examinations," he finally asked.

Apollonia whipped her head around towards him, appalled that such a meek little setter such as himself could be so perceptive of her inner musings. It was enough to briefly still her with silence, though she eventually found the gumption to speak.

"I'm picking up the last of the medical supplies as well. Once I sift through all of it, I'll start bringing it to practices," she answered.

Sugawara hummed a small note of affirmation, before giving a cordial, 'hello,' to Daichi as he walked into the classroom, not but a second before the bell. He took his seat behind the Finn, questioning the setter what they had been talking about, to which Sugawara explained that he was discussing the oncoming match of the first years.

Daichi chuckled wearily, musing of the troublesome nature of the four—well two, but he did not want to openly chastise specifically Hinata and Kageyama in front of his fellow teammates—and inquired whether Apollonia would be able to make the match. Sugawara noted with a childish frown that she would be ditching them in favor of the University—which instigated a playfully snide reaction from Daichi along the lines of, '_Oh, the Finn is too good for us high school kids, she needs to go after the college crowd_.'

Apollonia did little but blink forcefully, perking up slightly as Sugawara leaned over again to offer one last statement.

"Do try to show up if you can, we'd really like for all the first years to meet you once they're gathered together; we sort of have something special planned if everything goes well," he intoned, Daichi nodding in agreement.

Perhaps it was the identical Cheshire grins painting both the captain and vice-captain's mouth, a sly little expression that forced Apollonia to assume that they knew more than they led on—a crude gesture that ordinarily would not have appealed to Apollonia, though upon their soft, foreign faces, she had to admit…

Perhaps, for the first time, she was actually intrigued by the approaching match,

And perhaps, contrasting sharply from last year,

She' be able to profess it.

* * *

"_Return of the Swan: Reunion._"

* * *

"I sort of wish she was able to see this match. It was something else," Sugawara admitted, holding his arms crossed as he stood next to Kiyoko.

Karasuno's manager could only lift her chin, offering a soft nod.

"Apollonia told me that the college wanted to prep her as much as they could before she started helping out," she said quietly, averting her eyes towards the court, taking in the beguiling sight that was their newly inducted first years.

While Hinata was running around like the bull-headed spitfire that he was, Kageyama was trying not to look too comfortable in his new club uniform, Tsukishima was holding the fabric out in front of him as if it would get him dirty, though Yamaguchi seemed to be more intrigued by the extra jacket lying at the bottom of the box.

An extra jacket? Surely their senpais had anticipated only _they_ would be receiving their ticket into the Volleyball Club, so why would one lonely jersey rest at the belly of this simple, cardboard box? It was rather large, suited to fit someone of Tsukishima's frame or even taller, though there was not another beanstalk to be found.

Yamaguchi held up the jersey to his fellow teammates and inquired, "Why is there an extra jacket? Was there supposed to be another first year joining?"

Hinata ceased his running around and sprinted up to the out held jacket. Upon the immaculate size of the clothing, his eyes nearly popped out of his head, and his hands rose towards the object laying limp in Yamaguchi's arms.

"SUGOI-I-I! It's _huge_; this person must be like a walking skyscraper! They're probably even taller than Tsukishima!"

Hinata spun around to Daichi and Sugawara, "Who does it belong to, is he a first year like us," he asked.

A flash of recognition flashed across Tanaka's eyes, before he too was inspecting the jersey with his knee fully extended out in front of him, his hand cupping his chin.

"No-o-o way, Daichi-san, Suga-san! Did you really get _her_ a jacket?!"

_Her_?

A snapping of necks became audible as all four first years whipped around to face their captain.

Daichi felt the unnerving urge to take a step back as his new first year kohai looked at him with tepid stares—wondering both why the Hell someone who was not even present, who did not even participate in the three-on-three match was receiving the emblem of Karasuno's Volleyball Club, and why the Hell said person was a _goddamn_ _woman_.

A small bead of sweat slipped down Sugawara's cheek as he broke out in a toothy grin, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, I did promise her a jacket in exchange that she started training exclusively with us this year."

"Who are you guys talking about," Hinata demanded as he stood between his two senpais. The two elders looked down at his little carrot top head as it swiveled between Daichi and Sugawara, eyes wide with bemusement. "Who's this lady you're talking about? Is she one of your girlfriends?"

Both Daichi and Sugawara wore a look of horror, Sugawara flushing brightly as they both held out their hands in a halting manner before shouting, "NO," in a spotless harmony. Tanaka was not shy as he burst out in gut-wrenching laugher, going so far as to fall on the floor and actually hold his stomach while writhing madly around like an upturned beetle.

Hinata just stood between them, wondering why his elders were suddenly so timid just by discussing this one woman—who had to be _ginormous_ if she could sufficiently fill out the jacket Yamaguchi was still holding out awestruck in front of him.

Kageyama had altogether given up on following the brainlessness of Hinata as well as the suddenly flustered demeanor of his superiors, though the lurking suspicion of who exactly this person was still prodded at him. How could a woman of all species just be given a jacket without even being part of the team? What, was she a fellow manager, or a younger sister of one of the third years, did she prefer unnaturally oversized sportswear—because honestly, what person other than Tsukishima would actually be able to fill out what looked to be about four or five yards of fabric?

Kageyama glanced at the jacket, his flustered third year senpais, Hinata holding the jacket up to his shoulders, commenting how it could be worn like a yukata on his own frame, to an obviously irritated Tsukishima, Tanaka still laughing, and back to the jacket. Reluctantly, he sighed.

"Well who is this person, and why is she getting a free jersey?"

Immediately, a wide, wicked and fervently intimidating sneer crossed Tanaka's face as he slipped an arm around Kageyama's shoulder. He snatched the piece of cloth and held it tenderly in his arms if the aforementioned woman had suddenly materialized in its frame.

"Who is she? _Who is she_?! This ordinary jacket belongs to none other than Apple-san! You lowly first years will be required to regard her as, 'Karasuno's Swan,' so you better watch yourself when handling it."

"APPLE," Hinata exclaimed loudly. "Her name is '_Apple_?!'"

"Is, 'Karasuno's Swan,' really a houseplant," Tsukishima inquired with a haughty grin, decorated by Yamaguchi's quiet chuckling.

"Her name is Apollonia, and she's actually an international student from Finland," Daichi started.

"She's pretty knowledgeable, but you might have to excuse her if she speaks a little odd. Her Japanese is pretty dated," Sugawara added.

"_Finland_," Hinata hummed, "so cool! Where is that, is that in America?"

Daichi and Sugawara sighed in unison, bearing strained smiles as they gritted their teeth in effort not to groan.

"No," Sugawara began wearily, "Finland is country far north, it's next to Russia and Sweden."

"Oh," Hinata nodded understandingly, "what language do they speak there?"

"Finnish," Daichi answered tiredly.

"Mhmm, mhmm," Hinata mused as he continued nodding before straightening back up with a jolt, "The North is famous for Vikings, right?! Those big guys carrying axes and swords and ride bicycles?!"

"How does he know what a Viking is, but he didn't know what language a Finnish person spoke," Tsukishima noted with a heavy frown.

"Hinata, you idiot, they don't ride bikes," Kageyama interjected with his hands thrown up in the air.

"But I thought that's why they were called, 'Vikings!' Because they have cool bikes!"

"Those are two completely different words, you dumbass! They're irrelevant to one another!"

"Whhuua?!"

"This is pathetic," Tsukishima mumbled, rubbing his fingers across his temples upon the building volume between idiot 'A' and idiot 'B,' also known as Hinata and Kageyama.

Hinata, with the jacket still firmly in his grip, held it up and ask, "So where is she, are we going to meet her? Do we have to call her Apple-sensei?! Or Apple-tono?!"

"Maa-a-a-a," Tanaka waved, "Apple-san is recovering from the flu, so she is going to come back any time she wants. It's funny, she's supposed to be our medic, yet she's the one who gets sick the most," he chirped.

"That's not something to sound so prideful about," Sugawara commented.

Hinata tilted his head, "Medic?"

"She's still a student and she's been authorized to be an Athletic Trainer," Kageyama stated evenly, though slightly taken back with amazement.

"Suga wasn't lying when he said she was, 'knowledgeable,'" Daichi mused, "She took an exam to test what she knows about athletic training, and her scores are already college level. So, she was able to find a University to sponsor her in a program that will accelerate her degree in Sport's Medicine while allowing us to have a trial Athletic Trainer."

"And, she gets to be with us during games," Sugawara added lightly.

"Whoooa," Hinata cooed, "Apple-sensei sounds so cool! I want to meet her, I want to meet her! Kageyama, don't you want to meet her?!"

"Don't get so excited, dumbass, she's just probably going to be on the sidelines to check for concussions, which only applies to an idiot like _you_."

While the two continued to bicker, much to the misfortune of Daichi as he tried to break them apart and quiet both of them down before they caused any more trouble, a small creaking sound resonated throughout the gym, and from the far side, an alienesque creature of towering stature and a face that was unnervingly stern had entered out of the beaconed afternoon light.

Hinata stood, utterly silent, completely blank-faced before this tall, column of ivory and—what apparently was very strong menthol rub and cough medicine. His face had paled to a sickly green; the sclera of his eyes had absolutely engulfed his iris.

Her strides were long and nimble as she made her way down the court towards the furthest wall, setting her bag down, removing her school's button-up before replacing it with her accustomed Stanford sweatshirt. She undid her skirt and neatly folded it over her bag, shifting the bottom of her athletic shorts that rested underneath to a more comfortable length with an audible 'snap.' She swiftly slipped her compression socks on, tugging the hem high over her thigh, then slid the pads firmly over her kneecap, flexing her shin as straightened back up to her full, one hundred and eighty-five centimeter stature.

Not realizing that while she was completing her ministrations, improperly of course, considering she didn't adhere to changing in her homeroom as she was obliged to do, the entirety of the volleyball team had gone eerily quiet, perturbed that such an intimidating looking creature could just waltz right in without announcing herself, change in broad daylight, and continue on as if merely a cloud had passed by.

She looked up to find them staring at her, profusely confused, until Tanaka shot forwards with his arms thrown over his head.

"APPLE-SAAAAAN!"

"That's her," Tsukishima asked, eyebrow raised as Apollonia side-stepped to avoid the flying wing spiker.

"As quiet as ever, Apollonia-san," Daichi chirped, pulling back Tanaka and subduing him in a firm chokehold.

"It's good that you're here, you didn't get to miss the surprise," Sugawara hummed. Apollonia tilted her neck, slightly bemused by what, 'surprise' the setter and team could possibly offer her. She walked towards the setter, who held his arm out, gesturing towards the four newly inducted members.

"Everyone, this is Apollonia. Apollonia-chan, These are the latest first years," Sugawara clarified, not without adding, '_Just bow to them and use the suffix –kun_,' under his breath.

She was introduced to the ever blasé Tsukishima, who regarded her lightly, despite being obviously perturbed that she proved true to her jacket size, nearly meeting him in stature. Yamaguchi chuckled faintly, bowing meekly to her, and nearly imploded as she addressed him with an airy, '_Yamaguchi-kun_.'

Sugawara led the towering Finn over to Kageyama and Hinata—who still looked to be conserved in amber, frozen in time with a look of complete shock painted over his face.

"This is Kageyama Tobio."

She bore down on him with a hard calcite stare—and though her demeanor was not intentionally intimidating, Kageyama could not help but feel uneasy being in her sights, like a grain of dirt within a piece of glass shoved under a microscope. He could see her thin mouth moving, though the words felt delayed as they hit him square in the stomach.

"Hello, Kageyama-kun."

He found his face unnaturally hot for the air-conditioned gym, unable to accept that his skin was generating enough heat to boil a pot of water. Kageyama pretended to ignore Tsukishima's snide comment of, '_Oh, so the King gets flustered by women_,' and turned his head to Hinata, who looked as if he wanted to jump straight into Apollonia's arms, but lacked the bold audacity to do so. Regaining his poise, he turned to the Finn and bowed.

"Hello, Apollo-"

"SHIRO-SAAAN!"

Kageyama was flung backwards as Hinata threw himself to the floor face first with his arms splayed out in front of him, his knees curled under him in what was assumedly a full-body bow.

"Please for give me, Shiro-san," Hinata cried against the court floor, bringing himself back up and meeting face to face, yet again, the daunting creature he had encountered merely a year prior—still boasting those terrifying crystal visors, that immaculately bright hair, and bony, masculine face. This was the very terrifying, immaculate, bony person that he had callously assumed to be male, though now, here she was appearing before him like some haunting spirit, reborn as a woman.

Apollonia faired no better in composure as she too came face to face with a very unnerving presence from her distant past.

'_Porkkana_,' Apollonia noted, her face as pale as a sheet.

"Hinata Shouyou," he shouted without even needing Sugawara's introduction.

Trying to repent for his horrible impression he had shown to her merely a year prior, he bowed as low as he could to her, almost touching his curling orange locks to his knees as he squeezed his fists at his side in self-restraint. Like a pop-up toy, he snapped back up with a nervous smile and held out his thin, little arm to the Finn as a gesture towards her western heritage, though it was profusely shaking and sweating.

"I-it's nice t-to meet you again, Sh-shiro-san—I mean, Senpai—I mean, Apple-sensei—I mean—

"Apollonia, you dumbass," Kageyama murmured, causing Hinata to jolt.

"Ah-ah-pp-ppl-pleo-"

"Apple-san, are you alright?"

"Apollonia-san?"

Both Daichi and Tanaka watched as The Finn's face puckered into a serrated frown, her brow trembling, the color of her eyes growing manic, as if her heart were beating straight through her chest out in front of her, bleeding and pumping in her open palm. Her hands were shivering as they made their way to her sweating face, red beyond compare, covering her mouth, suffocating her mute.

Hinata—terrified that he had either insulted the towering Finn, or somehow frightened her—ran up to her lurching frame. He took note of her searing skin and sickly posture and assumed that her flu was coming back full force. He quickly grabbed a towel and water bottle, and holding it up to her.

"Apple-senpai, you're overheating," he cried, stepping closer to Apollonia—who merely blushed harder and backed away with one arm stretched out in front of her as if to say, '_STOP. STAY AWAY_.'

"Oi, Hinata, you're making it worse," Daichi called, tugging the boy back.

"Oh no, not again, Apollonia-chan! Hang in there Apollonia-chan!"

Regrettably accustomed to their current predicament, Sugawara rushed around and held Apollonia up under her arms, swiftly jerking to the right so that her scalding and flustered feathered head could fit comfortably on his left shoulder as she collapsed in his grip. She uttered a strange gurgling sound, as if her throat were being strangled by bile and venom. Immediately, Sugawara froze.

"No no no, Hang in there, Apollonia-chan, please don't throw up!"

"Apple-senpai is sick, someone call a medic," Hinata cried, running around in circles.

"I thought she _was_ supposed to be our medic," Tsukishima quipped.

Daichi rubbed his forehead is effort to rekindle his waning patience as Hinata tried to grasp for Apollonia's sleeve—which only caused the Finn's knees to buckle, almost forcing both she and Sugawara to the ground—while Tsukishima stood off to the side, an arrogant scowl worn on his face as he struggled to believe that this klutzy, shota-con tow-head was supposed to be Karasuno's so-called 'swan,' while Tanaka apparently whispered something into Kageyama's ear, causing the young setter to jerk back, and yell out, "Apple-nee-san," in confusion.

Apollonia's breath immediately hitched, her head snapping up to meet Kageyama's endearingly perplexed expression; in an instant, she fell to the floor on her knees, her head bowed, her ivory fringe glowing pink from the audacious red burning off of her skin.

"Apple-senpai," Hinata cried.

"Kageyama, don't call her that! Hinata, don't come near her," Daichi ordered, with Sugawara struggling to keep the Finn conscious as she collapsed face first against the floor, all while trying to keep Hinata at a safe distance away from her.

"She's as absurd as the rest of them," Tsukishima scoffed, unable to tear away himself away from watching what could only be described as a car wreck of idiots.

"You don't think she's kind of cool," Yamaguchi mused.

He shrunk back as Tsukishima offered a look that need no words other than, '_Shut up, Yamaguchi_.'

Daichi sighed as Tanaka stood slapping Kageyama's back, congratulating the boy for being able to defeat such a mighty creature like Apollonia with a simple suffix—which proved to be her fatal downfall, evident as Sugawara tried to fan her glowing, semi-conscious face with a towel—though could not help but chuckle as he watched Apollonia slowly rise to her feet, breathless and flustered as she clutched her knees for support.

A grin took his face as Sugawara grasped her shoulders, yelling '_Pull yourself together, Apollonia-chan! They're just first years!_'

It seemed the swan truly had returned.

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**

_Porkkana: Finnish; carrot._

_Oh and the whole Hinata getting tripped up with Vikings and bikes, it's because the two sound the same.: 'Baikingu' (Biking) versus 'Viking,' which can sound like, 'Vikingu.'_

_I was thinking about introducing them to her one by one, but that would have stretched on for probably five excruciating chapters, and I wanted her to be out for her flu, as you can see here. I want it to be a hindrance for her, so that it puts off the first years seeing her in action, a little more needs to happen before they see the extent of what she's capable of and why she dons the moniker, 'Swan.'_

_Apollonia is a weakling for shota cuties, just wait until she meets Sugawara's fellow soccer mom, Yuka from Nekoma, and Kenmaaa, oh gosh..._

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and what a big goof Apollonia can be despite her 'swanly,' appearance. Be sure to check out my tumblr (found on my profile page) for Apollonia's updated appearance, and updated statistics, as well as other fun stuff/ illustrations!_

_Thank you for all the new reviews, favorites, and follows, you guys are the best, you lovely bunch of angels! It warms my heart all cozy and fuzzy to know that people are actually reading this wee little story of mine! Feel free to review or PM me about anything!_

_Good night/day!_


	8. Change in the Wind: Kiitos

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_Daichi sighed as Tanaka stood slapping Kageyama's back, congratulating the boy for being able to defeat such a mighty creature like Apollonia with a simple suffix—which proved to be her fatal downfall, evident as Sugawara tried to fan her glowing, semi-conscious face with a towel—though could not help but chuckle as he watched Apollonia slowly rise to her feet, breathless and flustered as she clutched her knees for support._

_A grin took his face as Sugawara grasped her shoulders, yelling 'Pull yourself together, Apollonia-chan! They're just first years!'_

_It seemed the swan truly had returned._

* * *

"_Change in the Wind_."

* * *

"Apollonia-san, you missed a really great game between the first years," Ennoshita had commented once the Finn had finally pulled herself together.

"And of course _I_ was there too," Tanaka boasted, with his chest jutting out.

Apollonia, however, had forgone stroking Tanaka's ego in favor of gratefully taking the Karasuno jersey from Hinata—who after an unbearably long talk with both Sugawara and Daichi regarding Apollonia's behavior towards first years of his… _personality_, had become rather demure—and slipped the black cloth around her shoulders over her sweatshirt, snapping it sharply in place. It fit handsomely upon her frame, gaining a few hums of admiration from the second years and two thumbs up courtesy of Daichi and Sugawara.

However, seeing the fabric stretched around her broad, sloping shoulders, something that had for some reason gone overlooked suddenly hit them, rather the first years, like a flashing neon sign.

"Apple-senpai, you have something written on your back!"

After hearing Hinata's manic voice, Apollonia immediately whipped the jacket off and held it out in front of her, twisting it and turning it until she noticed just exactly what the carrot-top was referring to.

'_Those little.._.'

Instantly, she turned to who she assumed to be the culprits: and found Sugawara grinning stupidly, while Kiyoko pursed her lips, and looked off to the side.

"It was a last minute thing," Sugawara began innocently, "I thought it would set you apart from everyone else, so I asked Shimizu to add it on."

Apollonia glanced down at the bold letters spelling out, 'ATHLETIC TRAINER,' across her shoulders, above, 'Karasuno's Volleyball Club,' in bold, English print. But, it was not the words that had thrown her for a loop—having such a moniker emblazoned on her back was to be expected since she was supposed to separate her image from that of the Regulars'.

No, what actually caught her attention was the little, white swan emblem separating the two portions of writing.

Again, she looked up at Sugawara—still smiling—and Kiyoko—still avoiding eye contact.

Returning her attention to the jacket, she let out a long, begrudging sigh and returned the cloth across her shoulders, instigating a small chuckle from Sugawara and Daichi.

"The Japanese way to respond would be saying, 'It can't be helped,' Apollonia-san," Daichi interjected jovially.

Apollonia arched an ivory eyebrow at the captain, zipping up her jacket to her long bowing neck, though the endearing squeal of a certain little first year had jolted her forwards.

"Apple-senpai, that's so cool, that way everyone knows you're, 'Karasuno's Swan!'"

Apollonia glanced around to find Hinata a bit too close for comfort near her back, staring wide-eyed at the swan symbol in the middle of her spine, and threw a rather stern expression towards the second years, as if to say, '_I told you not to put weird thoughts in the first years' heads_.'

Tanaka flinched as he realized his faux pas, though was thankfully saved when Apollonia redirected those petrifying rime eyes away from him towards the small hand that had suddenly tugged on her hem.

Apollonia turned back around to see Kageyama and Hinata in a waist-bow, both snapping up with their chins and chests held high towards her. She regarded them with a somewhat stunned frown, recoiling a bit when they sang out in an apprehensive harmony.

"Senpai, please teach us!"

Shifting towards Sugawara and Daichi, she lifted her chin after they whispered, '_they want to play a match against you_,' a small bud of amusement beginning to blossom within her.

Slowly she returned their bow, bringing her head high before them, nodding lightly.

'_Alright_.'

…

"HRRUUGH!"

"Oh no, not again."

"Apollonia-chan, are you alright?"

"Apollonia-san?"

"Do your best, Apollonia-senpai!"

"Why would you say something like that to her when she's throwing up?"

"Sorry, Tsukki."

Well, it seemed to have started off well. The fire within her was burning beneath layers and layers of frigid calcite, the tattoo on her skin ignited as the feathers ripped through her back, down her arms into the threads of sunlight entering the gym. Sugawara had looked on expectantly, feeding off her internal fervor. He knew what toss she preferred: inhumanly high, reaching heaven, leaning over towards her left hand, with a slight arc, just the right amount of force.

It was perfect, absolutely perfect.

But, she had not even taken two steps forwards after Sugawara set the toss, before a violent stab shot straight through her stomach.

"HRUGH!"

"I guess she's not truly over her flu just yet," Daichi grimaced, turning away when made a mad sprint towards the trash bin, nearly falling in headfirst.

"Hang in there, Apple-san," Tanaka assured zealously, though far enough away to ensure that he would be a safe distance away from her convulsing body. Sugawara proved to be the only one able to stand next to her while she profusely vomited, hesitantly patting her back as she emptied what was left of her interior—which by now after all of the food and bile she slopped, had to be her interior organs falling into the trashcan.

"Apollonia-chan, are you sure you're all right," Sugawara asked, stretching the hem of his shirt over his mouth and nose just for good measure.

"Uuurgh, this is the last day I have to take the medicine," she groaned, "I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Get better, Apple-senpai," Hinata cried, suddenly appearing in front of her as she hung over her trashcan. "I want to show you my jump!"

Daichi watched as Apollonia repeated the entire process of purging with Sugawara trying to shoo away Hinata before he caused even more internal turmoil for the Finn, though the aspiring Little Giant crouched meekly at her side, waiting for her long swooping neck to reappear from the trash bin.

"I guess you'll have to wait to really see her in action. I'm just surprised that she's so lively today," he noted.

"_This_ is lively," Kageyama mused, an identical look of suspicion worn on both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi as well.

The girl was waist deep in a trashcan vomiting her weight in filth, and really looked no more athletic than an emaciated tree branch, and _this_ was _lively_?

Daichi made the effort to explain the complicated Finnish creature that was Apollonia E. Manner, though was cut off by the sound of the door swinging open, a petite, bespeckled man sprinting on through.

"We're competing! It's all set up!"

The club members—those who were not currently throwing up in a trashcan—turned around to see Club Advisor Takeda Ittetsu scrambling in with a handful of papers and smile that spanned the coasts of Japan.

Daichi's eyes widened. "We're competing, really," he mused.

Takeda nodded furiously. "A practice match! The opponent is one of the prefecture's best four: Aoba Jousai High School!"

"Aoba Jousai," Sugawara exclaimed, though trying not to yell too loudly with Apollonia's sluggish body propped up against him for support. "How did you manage that?"

"Aooubajouu…" Apollonia groaned while struggling to stand upright.

"They're a really good school," Sugawara assured quietly to a blank, blinking Apollonia as he gave her a slightly damp handkerchief to wipe her face.

"Please don't tell me you kowtowed again, sensei," Daichi said wearily. Takeda shook his head and opened his mouth ready to retort, though paused when a few foreign faces caught his eye.

"Oh, you two must be the problematic Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun," he aimed towards the first years—earning a somewhat chastised expression from the both of them. He turned towards Apollonia, a bit perturbed just by the immaculate height of her as he adjusted his glasses.

"And you must be our trial Athletic Trainer, Apollonia-kun," he exclaimed cheerily. "I am saying it correctly, am I? Apollonia-kun?"

The aforementioned Finn nodded before bowing respectfully, bringing herself back up to her full, upright stature, and evening out her expression.

"You're Mister Takeda," she asked before Sugawara nudged her slightly, "I mean, Takeda-sensei?"

Takeda nodded with a smile and answered, "Yes, starting this year, I'll be the Volleyball Club's Advisor, it's a pleasure to meet all of you." He pulled out a piece of paper that looked to have been folded over several times, and snapped it sharp.

"Now, back to the match. I should warn you that there is one condition that Aoba Jousai agreed on: they told me that they will only play if, 'Kageyama-kun will act as the setter for the entire game.'"

Tanaka sneered and rolled up his sleeves, shaking his fists at the intangible figures of the Aoba Jousai coach and Regulars in front of him.

"So what, they're not interested in Karasuno, they just want to guard against Kageyama? What, are they mocking us? I'll mock them," he growled, ready to fight, though was quickly held back by Daichi, with Takeda trying to quell him with a timid laugh.

Apollonia glanced over at the ashen setter, taking note of the somewhat sullied expression that had stilled him, turning her shoulder slightly towards him in effort to grab his attention. Sugawara offered a side-glance to the Finn, recognizing how odd her inquisitive expression was against her hard, unblinking face—for someone who always looked so sure of everything, it had taken Sugawara off his guard to see Apollonia sharing an expression with him that essentially read, '_Are you okay with this_?'

Tanaka verbalized Apollonia's demure reaction with substantially greater animation by grabbing Sugawara's shoulders, though the setter gently brushed him off, claiming, "I want to see how good Kageyama and Hinata's attack will be against one of the top four."

Apollonia raised her eyebrow, meeting Daichi's identical stare of skepticism before their expressions returned forwards. Daichi turned towards Takeda.

"Sensei, please give us the details."

* * *

_After Practice_

"_Lentopallo_."

* * *

There was a way that he stood when he seemed discontented about something: it was a slight slump of his shoulders, an almost unnoticeable curve of his back, his neck bent as if it had been weighed down significantly. Though his body would unwind, it was far from relaxed; he'd rub the back of his head, manifesting a nagging thought he was holding for himself, too timid to profess it on others.

It wasn't that she knew him, or was accustomed to his personality—that would have been an arrogant assumption on her part to hold herself so highly that she'd actually believe that she was of any importance to Sugawara, or knew anything about him other than his setting prowess—but she was in fact accustomed to the human body.

During her studies, she not only read over the human anatomy and its components, but its reactions as well—it delved from everything to how an athlete's body would react under pressure: the heartbeat, the brain, the release of stress hormones, all the way to how an athlete's body would eventually succumb to either injury or illness because of the long term effects of their unconscious ministrations.

And before her, right now, Sugawara was eventually going to suffer neck problems if he held his head any lower, shin splints if he kept shuffling in that hesitant manner, and a throbbing headache is his brow did not cease to furrow in thought.

Needless to say, as Karasuno's dutiful Athletic Trainer, Apollonia felt obliged to speak up as they made their way down the hill towards the Foothill Store.

Apollonia lengthened her stride slightly, stepping one pace ahead of him, turning her face to lock him in her peripheral, so that she may politely refer him to a delightful list of oils for aromatherapy. A gentle soul like Sugawara could use something relaxing like lavender, or if she wanted to appeal to his brighter side and perhaps lift his spirit—thus lifting his chin and chest thereby avoiding his inevitable neck ache and headache—she would offer him a vial of lemongrass or even bergamot.

But as she looked down at him from her tremendous height, it was not his slouched posture and dour demeanor that suddenly muted her.

If at all possible, even his hair seemed to droop slightly, the ashen color a little less healthy, and a little drier than it ordinarily seemed. Surely the human body could produce such effects at that rapid of a pace. But even with that in mind, his youthful Japanese face seemed to look older, like a jaded young man wandering aimlessly down the street, like a small hopeless ragamuffin with a hole in his sock and blisters on his feet. It very well could have the trick of light as well, in the dimming sunlight, but Apollonia was not as accustomed to optics or the vast realm of color psychology. But somehow, even when Sugawara noticed her so closely at his side, he picked himself up, exuding a false sense of self—though the betraying signs of endless rumination were swimming in his foreign, brown eyes, even as they met her own Nordic stare.

And even with his body both inwardly and outwardly screaming that he was still mulling over the idea of Kageyama taking his spot—that he clawed tooth a nail in his own, gentle manner to gain—he was able to grin up at her, his little mole at the corner of his cheek lifting on that young eastern face of his. Her eyebrow lifted as she fruitlessly tried to decipher the conflicting reactions of his body—because surely if she could not adequately analyze him, then he would likely suffer an injury that had callously slipped past her, because she was so distracted by those doe-brown irises—then she would definitely have failed in her position as Athletic Trainer, as their swan.

Truly, it was quite the conundrum for the poor Finn, though on the other end, Sugawara proved to be a little less assuming, and a little less pretentious.

Apollonia may not be very generous with words, but Sugawara had a pretty decent idea what she was trying to converse with her expressions. Despite the unnatural sense of poise and character Apollonia prided herself on wielding, deep down—way deep down, far into the calcite caverns hidden within her body—Apollonia did seem to have feelings, however vague and ephemeral they proved to be.

And the fleeting emotion she was currently pulsing towards him, he recognized as, 'worry.'

Whether she was worried over his health or his conflicted opinions towards the practice game was rather obsolete in his mind. The only thing that honestly mattered was that hundreds of miles of land and water separated their cultures, polarizing them in different worlds, linguistics keeping them from properly decoding one's grammar, one's intended meaning, even going so far as to separate them by appearance—an old age, sort of distasteful presumption based on her bizarre, Nordic appearance versus his placid, doll-like appearance. What mattered to him was that even with all of the aforementioned reasons being solid enough to separate them in every possible way, she still managed to care—in her own, odd, 'Apollonia,' manner.

It didn't have to be anything more than momentary concern, there in an instance and suddenly gone; because he had seen it, and was willing to accept it wholeheartedly.

So often she walked around with her shoulders back, her head in the clouds—both in regards to her height _and_ aloof nature—and exuded an air of indifference, yet it was blaringly obvious—to him at least—that she was an overly analytical worry wart, with impeccable manners and strongly subdued maternal instincts.

So as he looked up to see Apollonia trying to avoid fully staring at him—because after reading three different books about Finland, he had learned that staring even for a moment was considered rude—he couldn't help but grin, because a myriad of theories and assumptions were probably building in that large, Finnish brain of hers regarding his mental health after learning that Kageyama would be placed as the setter the entire game.

Knowing the Finn lacked the eloquence to express her conjectures openly at that point in time, he settled for changing the topic entirely.

"Are you excited to attend a match with us? I know it's just a practice, but I hope that you'll have fun."

Apollonia raised an eyebrow at the boy, before offering a slight nod.

Inwardly she had deduced that his chipper attitude would most likely falter if she gave him lavender, reverting him to a state of melancholic nostalgia or something of the sort, and thus pulled out a bottle of lemongrass from her medical bag. She held out the vial towards him, gesturing that he take it. Sugawara held the small glass cylinder in his hands, looking it over, a little perplexed, but blindly grateful.

"It is an energizer—a 'pick-me-up,' I guess you could call it. Your posture implies that you need one."

Sugawara chuckled, handing the vial back to Apollonia, musing, '_classic Finnic candor at its finest_.'

Apollonia still kept her eyes on the lemongrass, unable to let him hand it back so easily. Seeing that he was likely not to win their little battle as he thought he would, Sugawara countered with an attempt to catch her off her guard.

"Will you say something for me in Finnish?"

Apollonia just looked at him, as if to say, 'W_hat_?'

Sugawara nodded his head, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"I want to learn a little Finnish, maybe I'll pick up an accent like yours," he chirped.

Apollonia snorted at his audacity, quickly hiding the break in her even face with her hand still holding the lemongrass. Silently she was a fair bit perturbed that as hard as she tried to resolve his conflicted emotions, _he_ ended making _her_ feel at ease.

Perhaps it was a Japanese thing.

She looked over at him, lifting her chin as if to say, '_what do you want to know_?'

"How do you say…" Sugawara lifted his head towards the sky, "Volleyball?"

Ah, of course.

Apollonia nodded lightly, before clearing her throat and responding in her thick Finnish drawl.

"Lentopallo."

Sugawara straightened and braced himself, putting on his best Finnish yodel.

"Lentyo-palldo?"

"Close," she assured, "Lentopallo. Try not to roll the 'l,' at the end."

Sugawara nodded again before asking, "So then, how would you say, 'I like volleyball,' in Finnish?"

Apollonia arched her eyebrow lightly as she responded, "Tykkään lentopallo." She paused before adding, "Or, minä tykkään lentopallo can work too."

"Saa, that sounds a little too advanced for me, Apollonia-chan," Sugawara noted with a small chuckle, waving his hand weakly as if he were wafting her accent away. The Finn was quite amused by his reaction towards her native language: he looked at her with such awe and novelty, yet the rappings of her tongue like a snake's hiss, or a cat's purr was second nature on her part. She exhaled softly through her nose before turning forwards, offering him a small retort.

"Kiitos, Sugawara-kun."

'_Thank you_.'

* * *

_One Day Before The Practice Match_

"_Nervous_."

* * *

"He put his jacket on like a pair of pants," Sugawara noted wearily, leaning over the rail, looking off onto the gym facing the athletic building.

"Something like that was fashionable once, in Finland," Apollonia added offhandedly.

Sugawara quietly chuckled, letting his voice become but a wispy thread of breath, until a realization hit him, snapping his eyes open, whipping his head towards the Finn.

"Apollonia-chan, did you just make a joke?"

Apollonia glanced over at the setter as if she were somewhat offended by his exclamation.

"I'm entirely serious," she deadpanned.

Sugawara flinched, fearing that he might have actually insulted Apollonia—and the peculiar fashion of Finnish youth—and rubbed the skin on the back of his neck.

"Right, r-right," he began, "I just thought you were trying to diffuse the tension or something. Everyone seems to be a little nervous right now."

Apollonia looked down on him with a glazed over expression, not even realizing that the air that had blanketed them was in fact rather thick and heavy: despite the fact that Hinata was running around in Tanaka's pants, with Tanaka trying not expose himself as he chased after the boy. Even Kageyama seemed on edge in his own, passive manner: simmering about something deeply rooted within him, something strong enough to barely mute Hinata's loudly squalling cries. Among the other players there had been a stagnant smell in the air that quieted even the snide remarks of Ennoishita whenever Tanaka was slapped by the girls' tennis captain.

And she hadn't picked up on any of it.

Somehow, Apollonia was disheartened by her own ignorance.

She had never participated in competitive sports, not with a club, not even by herself; thus she was not accustomed to feeling the pressure of facing one of the top four schools in the prefecture with a motley crew of volleyball misfits to call her teammates. She did not feel that heart-pounding pressure to rise higher than any of their players, to look at them from a high peak, standing in the wavering waters of victory, to watch as they fell to her feet, humbled, drowning. She did not feel the spine-tingling sensation of adrenaline endlessly being recycled within her blood. She did not feel the agony of pressure doting down on her back to prove herself, to keep her teammates steady on the court.

But she did feel pain: vivid, violent, feverously intense pain coursing through her muscles—never tiring, never healing. With each bend, whip and snap, it was as if she could feel each one of their aches individually: in her wrists, her elbow, her knees, her shoulders whether she was standing on the sidelines or passing simple tosses for the second years. She felt pressure on her back as if she were being crushed by a building, a skyscraper, a cabin back in Finland. She could feel all of the physical pain wreaking havoc on her body, reducing her to nothing but searing flesh and bones.

Everything hurt, but through years and years of imitating her father's steadfastness, and indulging in her mother's alternative medicines, keeping track of everything about her body: what went in, out, her fluid composition, her nutrient deficiencies, the pain was but a bristle of her feathers, a tuft of down on her back. Tenacity proved her strong point, making her Finnic ancestors proud as she persevered through the pain with nothing more than a stoic stare, a cold fire behind those intense, Nordic eyes of hers.

Yet, even tenacity could not bring her to the same level as Sugawara, as Daichi, Tanaka or any of the other volleyball players. They were facing a wall much greater than hers, and far more threatening. She could feel all of the agonizing stabs and jolts in the world, but it would not bring her any closer to the people she was unworthy of describing as her, 'friends.'

Empathy.

What she lacked was empathy.

It was but a simple emotion, yet it separated her from them—casting her aside, shutting her out. Without even speaking, she felt as though she was lost in translation, trying to understand the emotions whirling through them, though she ultimately found herself just staring at them: blankly, stupidly. She could waft her hand, regarding it as little more than, 'Japanese customs,' but it wasn't: in Finland, she often heard people from varying sports teams professing their jitters and anxieties, humming and musing in a unified chorus of their worries and woes.

In theory, she could just repeat their words verbatim, thus faking it, and thus thoroughly tarnishing the value of authenticity, but Apollonia was not clever or gifted enough to falsify such a reaction. Empathy was supposed to be universal, so how the Hell did she miss out on it?

It made her heart pound, to know that she could not relate to them as she so desired—the most she could feel being the stress on their bones, the feeling of their muscle fibers ripping apart at the seams with every leap and swipe. Within her own body, she could feel her lungs contracting, her blood pulsing wildly in reaction to her own self-critical ruminations, and found that as bold as her inner workings had proven to be, she could not quell her outward reactions.

"Apollonia-chan, are you nervous too?"

She had a white knuckled grip on the railing, her long, Finnish fingers wrapped tightly around, her blue and violet veins gently peeking to the surface. Astounded, she could only stare at Sugawara.

What could she possibly be nervous about? She wasn't the one with her toe on the line, her front bared for battle—she had no reason to be anything but impassive.

Still, Sugawara proved to be full of surprises.

"It's kind of exciting, isn't it," he mused with a wide smile, "it's your first game."

"I'm not playing," Apollonia noted haltingly.

"Neither am I," he retorted casually, "But you can feel it, can't you, the adrenaline? It's exhilarating."

Apollonia looked down at her hands, loosening her grip in order to return her skin's hue back to their bright, Finnish pink. It was true: her heart was racing, but not in anticipation for the match. Her heart was racing, because she felt just like she had in Finland—shut out, completely torn from the people she had been privileged enough to bear a relationship with, regardless of the title. For once, she had felt more than just, 'That Girl,' to someone, yet all over again she felt herself slipping.

It wasn't exhilarating.

It was terrifying.

"Apollonia-chan?"

She jolted back to reality, seeing the hard, stony surface of her hand suddenly becoming pale and chalky in the afternoon light. She lightly pushed herself away from the railing, and let her arms drop against her side. Her neck jutted a bit forwards, regarding the first and second years as they made their way off beyond the clubroom. She could feel Sugawara keeping a soft eye on her from his peripheral, his forearms still resting against the topmost metal bar.

"You've been there," Apollonia started, verbally gesturing towards the volleyball court, "You know how they feel. I don't."

Sugawara raised his eyebrows, though as the realization hit him, they curved above his eyes in a restrained manner as he expelled a bit of air through his nose.

"You live inside your head too much," he said plainly.

Apollonia tilted her head towards him—unabashedly intrigued that he responded in such a direct, Finnish fashion—and slowly blinked, the sway of her ivory curtains gesturing a polite response of, '_Do continue_,' from the Finn.

"You've already jumped to conclusions without checking your work first," he replied, trying to appeal to the intellectual region of her psyche, "You've played volleyball before, right?"

Apollonia softly dipped her head, a bodily reaction that was meant to indicate a quiet, '_Yes_.'

"You've helped us third and second years practice before, right? You've seen us in action, you know most of our strengths and weakness."

Apollonia lifted her jaw, and appeased him with yet another nonverbal, '_Yes_.'

"And you have played a match before, you've been in a bunch of matches with us. Maybe the opponents weren't from another team, but you in fact have played with five other people on the court with you, right?"

Apollonia just looked at him, her voice a slight shock as she finally professed, "Yes," in a stoic tenor.

Sugawara bared her a wide grin, slapping his hands on the rail, sending a stream of vibrations from end to end along the bar.

"See? You're not at the beach by yourself anymore, and you're not playing with a bunch of foreigners. You're playing with your friends now, Apollonia-chan, you just need to get out of your head for a little while to see that."

She just stood there, bare and empty, as if the words had just filtered completely through her like light through a pane of glass. There was something unnerving about the rime dusting her eyes, how it could look so cold and gentle at the same time, before sharpening itself into a hard, passive sculpture.

He had a talent; Sugawara did, for putting her at ease when she—admittedly—wrung herself into an overthinking mess, whittling herself down like a pathetic piece of wood. With those honeyed Japanese words he was able to say so much with so little—almost like Finn, she had to note wryly. Still, even when he proved far more effective with assuring speeches and tender affirmations, he was quick to put her so high on a pedestal, so high above himself, and above his friends.

'_My Ace_.'

'_Our Swan_.'

'_Our Friend_.'

She hadn't lived up to any of those monikers, not to her standards. And though she could continue on as she had: wallowing in self-pity, ruminating within the depths of her specious mind, Sugawara's words had strongly swayed her. They built a strong, rough texture around her feet, firmly rooting her to the earth, to reality.

She lifted her neck a little higher, allowing the sun to halo the top of her feathered mane. She looked down at the setter, regarding his grin and easy posture, before wiping her face clean.

"Sugawara," she began, finding the taste of his name without that silly suffix more satisfying than it had before. Sugawara seemed a little taken back, though still looked up at the Finn expectantly.

"This will be the last time you will need to console me," she promised before turning towards the stairs, waving her hand as a polite, '_thank you_.'

It was but a myriad of jumbled words from a tall, slightly obscure foreign woman with alienesque features and a quirky accent. Yet Sugawara felt as though he had been sobered by her declaration, like his skin had been turned to grey marble. It wasn't just the hue of her voice, and it wasn't the fact that Finns seldom broke their promises,

It was that the blue of her eyes had never looked more genuine—as if he could not only see himself in them, but he could see her words written as law around her iris, into her bottomless pupil. It was a color that was so pure in essence, without any underlying hesitation that he'd surely be damned if he didn't believe her.

He watched as she made her way between the gym and the clubroom, running her hand through her down and bristles, setting them as they almost seemed to glow in the vibrant threads of sun. Her stride was a little stronger, her back—if at all possible—a little straighter, as if her vacant shell had been injected full of a pride, full of energy.

Perhaps he should have said something Finnish to her, to appease her in her own language, but he found the dialect of his Japanese tongue overwhelming him, muting her odd Nordic dialect.

'_Do your best, Apollonia-chan_.'

He couldn't help but grin.

'_We'll do our best too_.'

* * *

_Omake: "Nutrition."_

* * *

"Appfl-smmpai, you dnn't eat Nikumnn," Hinata noted with his mouth shoved full of pork and flour.

The Finn tilted her head slightly away: despite the magnetic endearment that revolved around Hinata, meat was something she would firmly break her stoicism for. Rather anything that was not porridge, fruit and coffee was enough to contort her face in a somewhat critical manner: her incessant, health-conscious-brooding maternal instincts hitting full force whenever anything with more than twenty grams of sugar was mentioned in casual conversation. Her mother drilled it into her large, Finnic head that to successfully combat—or at least keep at bay—the everlasting feeling of exhaustion that dwelled within her body, she must eat the healthiest diet possible.

And, according to Virpi, 'healthy,' was strict complex carbohydrates paired with high-in-polyunsaturated fats-low-in-saturated fat proteins like almond butter and edamame beans, accessorized with mountains of luscious vegetables lightly steamed with little to no seasoning. Occasionally, she was allowed to indulge in fruits—namely apples, avocados, and watermelon—though Apollonia usually faired better when she did _not_ eat sweets. With her sensitive stomach, she was sure to react unfavorably—namely vomiting her internal organs out again—if she ever neared high-sugar products, or meat or dairy. Excessively greasy foods were out of the question as well.

Needless to say, Apollonia's cupboard was nearly barren and grey with blandly colored buckets of vegan-special blend-protein powder, unsalted raw almonds, no-yeast, homemade, Finnic crisp bread, coffee, vegetable broth cubes to make soup, more coffee, and a bulk-sized bag of steel cut oats.

So for Hinata to be standing in front of her—looking like the most charming carrot to ever exist if God-forbid one actually did—holding a pork-filled bun, the potent smell of steamed meat hitting her like a brick wall, she had to admit that she was fairly nauseated in every sense of the word.

She shook her head, raising a polite hand against the open bag Hinata was trying to force onto her.

"Don't worry, I got you black coffee, Apollonia-san. It's brewing inside," Daichi assured.

"Apple-san's one weakness, and it's gross to boot," Tanaka laughed, though Apollonia merely answered him with quiet, '_hn_,' as she made her way into the shop, with the murder of crows in tow behind her.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_Lentopallo: Finnish; "volleyball."_

_Minä tykkään lentopallo/ tykkään lentopallo: Finnish; "I like volleyball."_

_Kiitos: Finnish; "thank you."_

_Apollonia is a rather self-conscious one, she is. Being a big, old, leggy 'swan,' she feels like she's too hyped up, and she hash't done anything to really deserve any of it. __Trashbaby _Tsukishima agrees, but we're not going to listen to him for now.

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed today's chapter, because in a few more chappies we will meet..._

_THE GRAND KING._

_Yeup. Don't forget to review and tell me what you think, etc. etc. blah blah. _

_Good night/day everyone! Thank you to all the new followers, favorites and reviewers! Each one of you are gorgeous, and I duly appreciate every single one of you for being gracious enough to comment on my little story!_


	9. A King's Musings

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

**_This fic follows the manga, so there are implications towards later plots that are not addressed in the anime at the moment. If you do not want spoilers about future story lines past episode 13, read with caution!_**

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_'Do your best, Apollonia-chan.'_

_He couldn't help but grin._

_'We'll do our best too.'_

* * *

_Day of the Aoba Jousai Practice Match_

_"Moon's Musings: That's our Senpai?"_

* * *

She was as asinine as the rest of them.

She was a tall, foreign woman with a scary face that could easily frighten small children; and though it looked as if her personality would be somewhat normal—Tsukishima had to assume that most women did not bear quirks quite as ludicrous as his senpais—she ultimately proved him wrong.

She apparently had some sort of fixation for things that could be perceived as small and alarmingly cute: she was most likely the type to have small stuffed animals in her room, or a little keychain with a clay bird or kitten at the end, her phone was possibly decorated with cheap stick-on rhinestones, and her heart most likely stopped when she saw baby-faced men at concerts under the height of one hundred and seventy centimeters. Despite being a foreigner, she must have been over the moon to come from Finland to Japan—a land abundant in things both petite, and unabashedly adorable.

Then, there was the issue of her apparent, 'skill,' if he even wanted to call it that. Sure, she was tall, so she must have made an adequate blocker, maybe a so-so spiker if she had actually hit Sugawara's toss. But, she was undeniably a girl—so therefore, Tsukishima made the executive decision that she probably wasn't the strongest jumper or the hardest hitter. Maybe she had decent speed and reflexes that made up for her unfortunate gender—but girls normally focused more on their form than they did trying to do insane acrobatics like Hinata, or brutish spikes like Tanaka, so she possibly excelled in technique, or at least had good game sense.

But her first impression was heavily lacking in any of those possibilities when she sprinted over not even twenty seconds into the game to upheave her stomach into the trashcan. Then it was further tarnished when she—almost literally—broke down in front of them just because Hinata and Kageyama made the stupid, brainless decision to call her by that heinous nickname of hers—thoroughly embarrassing the Finnish woman, and causing her to show her true, idiotic colors for all of them to see.

Tsukishima was a realist—and after his brother, he made it a personal objective not to take to heart anything he was told. His elders had built up this statuesque, bony-faced girl as one of the most prodigious athletes to ever hail from Finland, so therefore, he would take her as such—just a statuesque, bony-faced girl. With his levelheaded filter, he could easily see that she was nothing more than a person of the opposite sex who was blessed with the genetic anomaly of height. That's it.

Whatever their reason for calling her, 'Swan,' and, 'Apple,' was probably just dry, Japanese commentary on her appearance. She did have ghastly pale hair after all, like a ghost—or in this case, like a swan—and she did have a rather long neck—along with long arms, long legs, and a long body in general—and possibly she faired well in ballet, and was known as, 'The Swan,' back in Finland because of her performance in, 'Swan Lake,' as a child, or something stupid and obvious such as that. And, 'Apple…' Well, that was just classic mispronunciation on their part, plucking, 'Apple,' from, 'Apollonia.' Then again, maybe she had a big fetish for apples like she did small high school boys.

Regardless of why she bore the monikers she did, or why his senpais—who when not speaking, were deceivingly normal—had hyped her up so much only to leave them utterly disappointed, her presence did not sit well with Tsukishima. It perturbed him even more that Yamaguchi—when the freckled boy assumed he was not looking—was fawning over the girl like she was a goddamned idol. It was disgusting: his hands were sweating and trembling at his sides, his eyes were wide and curious, and even when she was doubled over heaving her brains out, Yamaguchi could only muse, '_She's so cool, don't you think_?'

Yeah, vomiting is really cool, Yamaguchi.

And of course, _of course_, that oddball pair, Hinata and Kageyama, were no better: while Hinata was shamelessly admiring his new, Finnish senpai, lavishing her with mewls and chirps of excitement, Kageyama tried to appear cool, calm, and collected in her presence—though he was anything but. He tried to act as if she were just another one of his elders there to help out with their training, yet he was all fidgety and awkward, as if he had never properly conversed with a woman before. Then again, Apollonia did not look like a typical woman—but the shock of actually having to look up at one, one who probably weighed a few extra kilograms that he did—probably knocked the King off his pedestal for a moment, the humility hitting him hard as he hypothesized that he could not converse with Apollonia as easily he could Tanaka or Sugawara.

Kageyama did seem a fair bit taken back, however, when Hinata would not hesitate to run up to the Finlander with his arms thrown up, and a bashful smile on his face—thoroughly proving the King's theory that Apollonia would be difficult to approach entirely wrong. Hinata—despite his initial humiliation he bore when first meeting the Finn—had latched onto her, figuratively and at times, literally.

It was just bizarre in every sense of the word, just plain bizarre that his talented senpais would speak so highly of this strange, Finnish woman in such a manner that was obviously admirable, when she showed no reason for them to do so. It was foolish, the way that they spoke about her; and it was blind, the way the other first years believed them so easily.

But despite the fact that Tsukishima wore glasses, he was not at all blind.

He knew that Apollonia was most likely a figurehead picked for her alienesque appearance and poised stature—rather than her actually bearing any talent whatsoever. Tsukishima nodded his head to himself quietly, simmering in his own theories, adjusting the bridge of his glasses as he glanced over to a still star struck Yamaguchi watching Apollonia board the bus, sneering a bit before turning back.

He would not be fooled.

* * *

"_King's Musings: That's our Senpai_."

* * *

"She's like a rock."

Ennoshita and Narita nodded—a bit nervously—and tilted their head to the woman seated behind Kinoshita.

"I didn't know senpai could sleep that deeply, and in that uncomfortable of a position too."

"Shh! Kinoshita, you're going to wake her."

"I'm not sure that's possible, she looks like she's in a coma."

"I thought girls were supposed to look cute while they slept."

"Narita, this is Apollonia-senpai we're talking about."

Upon getting situated in the bus, Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita had taken it upon themselves to discuss Apollonia's… peculiar sleeping arrangements.

Both of her oversized medical bags were situated on the seat with her: one at her side, one on her lap. Her head was whipped back on the rim of her chair, angled sharply to the point where it was nearly parallel to her shoulder. Her hands were limp, one resting possessively on the carrier in her lap, the other one slackened, slightly hanging off the edge of the seat. Her legs looked like broken branches, her ankles crossed in a truly awkward manner, the sheer length of them reaching far under Kinoshita's seat.

Yet, even with her body situated like a broken marionette's, her face was unnervingly peaceful—well, as peaceful as hard, Finnish cheekbones could appear.

"Still, she looks… dead."

Ennoshita glanced at Apollonia from his seat next to Narita, leaning a bit back as if her coma-fashioned slumber were contagious.

"Should we wake her?"

Narita next to him immediately flinched.

"What if she's one of those types who get really angry when they're woken up?"

"MAAA, what are you guys talking about," Tanaka drawled, a bit of biscuit hanging out of his mouth like a makeshift cigarette. The fellow surrounding second years immediately snapped their hands up, ushering for Tanaka to stop talking, or at least quell his bombastic volume.

"Shhh, don't wake Apollonia-senpai," Kinoshita urged, bearing the misfortune of being seated in front of her, thus facing the grunt of her punishment less she be stirred. But Apollonia looked about as animated as a piece of driftwood, her body not even habitually twitching at the sound of Tanaka's laughter whenever the wing spiker leaned over a green Hinata to grab hold on her seat's collar.

"Apple-saaan, do you want a snack," he drawled loudly before being shoved back into his seat by Ennoshita.

"Are you trying to get us killed," Ennoshita whispered, though Tanaka merely waved him off with a scoff before shifting towards Hinata. He made to offer the little first year a bit of food as well, though Hinata fruitlessly clawed over him for the bus's window, grumbling and groaning before-

"HRUGH!"

_Oh no_.

"UUUAAAHHH! STOP THE BUS! STOP THE BUS!"

Sugawara, Daichi and Kageyama whipped around to find Hinata passed out, face first on the seat, Tanaka next to him with his lap soaked in filth, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Kinoshita had to note macabrely that Apollonia hadn't even flinched, that she was still out cold, stretched over her seat; though as the bus screeched to a stop, she was thrown forwards, thus slamming her head into the back of Kinoshita's chair.

Needless to say, the replacement wing spiker's heart had dropped to the balls of his feet like a lead weight.

Her wispy fringe fell slightly over the leather, before shifting as she tilted up, revealing a truly terrifying expression—an expression so dark and profane, that it dare not be photographed or seen clearly in the light of day. Her brows were not just furrowed; they were digging into the earthen surface of her face. Her eyes were not just narrowed; they were like the fine edge of a northern dagger, unsheathed from its rust-colored scabbard. Her skin became hard like the dangerous façade of a cliff side, catching the light and shadows in possibly the most petrifying angle possible.

She raised her head over the seat, nearly meeting Kinoshita nose to nose.

"S-s-s…" he mewed quietly, shrinking further and further against the back of Yamaguchi's seat. Apollonia made the mistake of setting her hand on the chair's rim to stabilize herself, the simple movement becoming explicitly threatening to Kinoshita, causing him to holler;

"SSCCAAARY!"

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima glanced back—perturbed just by how much ruckus was being made on the bus merely ten minutes into the drive—only to recoil in horror at the long, horrifying shadow that took Apollonia's face. Tsukishima, despite his best efforts to remain impassive towards the girl, found himself almost frozen in horror seeing her expression, even more so when he realized that Yamaguchi had ducked under his seat as if her rime eyes would turn them all to stone.

"Uh oh, it looks like they woke up Apollonia-chan," Sugawara mused, glancing back from the brooding Finn to the vomit dripping down Tanaka's lap.

"It's amazing how she was able to sleep through Tanaka's screaming," Daichi added.

Kageyama returned the attention towards Hinata—still leaking and groaning and holding his stomach, "Should we help him," he asked. "What are we supposed to do?"

Sugawara grinned and reached over the seat to gift the setter a firm pat on the shoulder.

"You'll get to see your Apple-senpai in action," he chirped before turning towards the Finn. "Apollonia-chan," he called out, though flinched when her razor stare was directed upon him.

"Apollonia-chan, Hinata threw up on Tanaka," he finally finished, pointing over to duo behind her.

Immediately, Apollonia's expression took a one eighty and shifted from '_Finn from Hell_,' to something that was barely legible as maternal, or something vaguely akin. She zipped open the bag on her lap and placed a surgical mask over her mouth, hooking the strings behind her ears, then pulled out a container of sanitizer wipes, a paper bag—assumedly in case Hinata felt the urge to throw up once again—and a small trash sack for Tanaka to store his soiled pants in. She stood up from her seat and with a broad swoop of her arm, ushered everyone to exit the bus.

Hesitantly, the team obliged, filing out as Apollonia made her way back. She handed the trash bag to Tanaka, implying that he remove his pants and exit the bus as well. The wing spiker did as he was nonverbally told, and scurried off the bus before the smell had chance to truly hit him.

Apollonia leaned down to the mess Hinata had created, yanking out a couple of sanitizer sheets to crudely clean the immediate spills before it trickled any further down the rows. She reached over into her bag to pull out a fresh towel and lukewarm bottle of water, wetting the cloth before dabbing it along the boy's face, ignoring the pained groans and audible gurgling of his stomach.

"Hinata-kun," she said quietly, trying to get the middle blocker's attention.

Hinata just grumbled in response, though as it hit him that the distant, whispering voice calling for him was in fact the Finnish athlete Apollonia Eevastiina Manner and not the gentle tone of his own mother, he jolted to attention; only to have his internal organs twist in knots, sending a violent, sour, earth-shaking, stabbing-

"HRRUUUGGH!"

…

"Hinata, I though Apollonia-chan gave you a paper bag to throw up in," Sugawara intoned, pointing to the trash bag clutched in the boy's hands, significantly weighed down by some sort of mass-bearing load.

Hinata's face turned a deeply humiliated red.

"I-I… threw up on Apple-senpai," he croaked hoarsely, fiddling with the handles of the bag that held Apollonia's soiled warm up pants.

His teammates looked at him in horror that he would defile such a petrifying alabaster waterfowl with his projectile stomach acid, even more so that he was walking away unscathed.

Seeing the boy holding her warm up pants in his grip, Kinoshita grabbed his fellow second years by their shoulders, bringing Ennoshita and Narita to his side.

"That means…" he began quietly, his feline-shaped eyes snapping open, his finger pointing to the Finn in question as she descended the steps of the bus, his fellow second years stiffening as well in realization,

"Apollonia-senpai isn't wearing any pant-"

"KINOSHITA."

_SMACK_.

"Ow!"

The three second years immediately were scolded with a hard slap on the back of their heads courtesy of Daichi, each forced to bow shamefully as the Finn stood out in the sun beyond the bus's shadow, wiping off the tips of her shoes with a sanitizer cloth. She returned the three with an odd expression—one that was bemused, though not explicitly so—each second year muttering an apology she did not realize she deserved. Daichi stood beside them with a stern expression, barking, '_Have some respect_,' which—initially—had confused the Finn, though as she followed their eye line, it became apparent what exactly and caught their attention.

She may not have had the fullest chest, or the most aesthetically pleasing face, or a wasp-like waist, or even a semi-endearing personality; but if there was one thing she was gifted with being a woman, an athlete and a one hundred and eighty five centimeter Amazon, it was the genetic blessing of being sixty percent leg.

And they were as disturbing as they were mystifying.

Without her compression socks, the entirety of her muscular anatomy was on full display under her volleyball spandex: each curve of her long quadriceps slightly overhanging her kneecap, the ribbons of fibers and stretch wrapping around her leg from her Achilles, up around her hamstring into the forbidden regions of her covered hide. She wasn't smooth or slender as a Japanese woman customary was, but to the primal instincts that resided within all of them regardless of their culture, skin was skin.

Her Northern frame put their spindly little Eastern build to shame, and while they suddenly felt self-conscious that she was a woman with a more intimidating body than their own, they could only stare, wondering just how a simple black slip of nylon could make such a difference on her body.

With that in mind, Daichi stood with his arms crossed in front of the three—four once Daichi roped in Tanaka for staring as well—and ordered them to bow once more, each bearing identical bruises on the back of their heads.

However, Apollonia—as dense and impassive as ever—could not grasp why they were behaving the way that they were, until Sugawara leaned it and informed Apollonia of her lower body's effect on others—specifically those of the opposite gender. Apollonia's face sobered, her eyebrow arching as she looked down at the second years, wordlessly scolding them for being so frivolous in thought when they should be dutiful second years and setting a good example for their kohai by being unshakably focused on doing their best in the upcoming match.

She turned to Hinata—still pink in the face and profusely bowing for vomiting on her pants and shoes—and held out a little white bottle of lotion. It looked medical in appearance, but as she opened it, it exuded a strong smell of peppermint. Hinata looked up her, a question forming on his mouth.

"Peppermint will help in keeping the nausea at bay," she answered plainly, rubbing a small dab of the lotion in question on the underside of his wrists. Hinata lifted his arm to his nose, taking a small whiff of essence. He found it almost soothing as his sensory system became flooded with imagery of winter and flavored toothpaste, smells so crisp and sweet that he actually did momentarily slacken, though tensed right back up when he felt the back of Apollonia's knuckles resting against his forehead.

"You do not have a fever," she replied tonelessly, "but do try to relax."

Hinata bowed deeply before sprinting back up on the bus, hollering, "YES MA'AM, SENPAI," as he hobbled over to his seat, the rest of the team following thereafter.

Apollonia stood at the steps, offering each member a dab of peppermint lotion as well if they too were suffering from subdued anxiety—though only the second years and Yamaguchi were bold enough to accept her simple gesture.

Kageyama followed up the steps after Sugawara, noting that the smell of stomach waste was skillfully masked within the closed quarters of their van—the aroma of fresh laundry and lemon taking its place instead—and leaned over towards the fellow setter once the bus rolled to a start once again.

"Sugawara-san," he said quietly, gaining his attention, "Apollonia-senpai responded really quickly to the situation. Does she have any siblings?"

The ashen setter chuckled, "Actually, no. She's an only child." Kageyama seemed to be taken back by that fact: for surely with her level of reaction, she had to have been bred from taking care of siblings or helpless relatives. "She tries her best, though," Sugawara added, taking a bit of pleasure from Kageyama's stunned expression, "she's been working very hard to handle anything thrown at her."

"She even made the bus smell clean, and offered us something to help with nausea," Kageyama felt obliged to add.

"She's a stickler for details," Daichi mentioned good-naturedly.

The three turned to glance at their alabaster-feathered medic for a glimpse of her accustomed passionless stare, though as they turned, they found that she was once again, passed out cold across her seat: this time baring no shame as she spread out atop both of her medical bags, her knees hanging over the edge. Ennoshita and Narita chuckled at the display, though burst out in unhinged laughter when Hinata did the same and spread out in the back seat behind her, going so far as to even hold his hands over his stomach the way that she did, checking over the seat just to make sure he was following her lead down to the 't.'

"And, she's out like a light," Sugawara chirped, shaking his head, "That's your senpai for you."

The younger setter sat slightly cocked, still watching Apollonia—her foot jerking habitually in her sleep, thus hitting Ennoshita in the calf, with Hinata doing the same.

Inwardly, Kageyama nodded, reiterating Sugawara's statement, somewhat awed.

'_That's our senpai_.'

* * *

"_King's Musings: Unplayable Ace_."

* * *

"Apollonia-senpai is all dressed in athletic clothes, is she's going to help us warm up," Kageyama inquired, referring to the volleyball shorts and sport's polo Apollonia donned. She, as well, had slipped on her compression socks in effort to keep the second years' wandering minds on the match rather than her exposed, Finnish skin. Daichi had gracefully offered that she wear his warmup pants, though honestly, Apollonia wouldn't have been able to fit in half of the team's warm up gear; or at least, it would have fit very poorly on her long legs and rounded hindquarters.

It went without saying that Kageyama was rather surprised to see her dressed as she was: like a college athlete or even an representative of Finland at the Olympics if he were to be so bold.

"Well, she will as long as you ask her! Go on, go ahead," Sugawara answered, patting the younger setter's shoulder. Kageyama quickly flushed and shook his head, taking a small step backwards to retrieve his bag.

"So why is she all dressed up if she's not playing. Only people on the roster can warm up with us," Tsukishima noted.

"She _is_ part of the roster—she's our Athletic Trainer," Tanaka countered.

"She's more than that," Sugawara added as he straightened up from tying his laces, though as the words left his mouth, his teammates turned towards him bearing varied hues of jest, forcing the setter to instantly regret his words.

The first years—ignorant to what it was about Sugawara's statement that would instigate such a snide reaction from Daichi and the others, along with the uncomfortable pink that had suddenly taken Sugawara's face—just stared at their elders, glancing from one to the other, idly standing back as a bead of sweat rolled down Sugawara's cheek.

"Should we be aware of something," Tsukishima asked—albeit rhetorically in that chiding drawl of his. Tanaka seemed to be keen on answering regardless of whether or not the middle blocker was listening, lacing his arm around the gangly boy's neck, though was silenced by a sharp jab in his side courtesy of Sugawara. The setter slung his bag over his shoulder, taking off in a stride that was quicker than it probably should have been towards the building, only but a step behind Apollonia.

Kageyama turned to Daichi, trying to sound as casual as he asked, "_Should_ we be aware of something?"

Daichi took notice of Kageyama's inquisitive response, letting his mouth slide into a small smirk before he answered.

"They're quite a pair, aren't they?"

Kageyama jerked his head back, his eyebrows climbing atop his head as a myriad of thoughts and assumptions colored his head red:

They had only known each other for only a year, was that adequate enough time to build a relationship of that nature; not to mention they were from two entirely different continents, different cultures! And not that he was being discriminatory, but Apollonia was quite a tall woman, and Sugawara was-

"No no no, not like that," Daichi quickly retorted, waving his hands before the setter, breaking him from his runaway imagination. "I didn't mean it like that-"

"Yes you did-" Tanaka tried to interject, but was cut off by Daichi's extended fingers nudging him hard in stomach.

"I meant to say that, 'They make a great team,'" he assured.

Kageyama's brow furrowed, his mind unconsciously muttering, '_I have no idea what you are saying._'

"You're a setter, Kageyama, and you know that setters have a certain player that they are partial to: whether it be because of their skill, drive, or effort, right? The setter's ace?"

"Uooh, I guess so."

"Think of Apollonia-san as Suga's 'Unplayable Ace.'"

Kageyama returned his captain's words with a blank stare, his mind unconsciously sputtering and rolling into fields beyond his comprehension to understand why implying that Sugawara and Apollonia as a 'pair,' or 'team,' was enough to mute the ashen setter and send him into a flustered hysteria.

"Trust me," the captain assured, "you'll see soon enough why Suga's so keen on drilling it into all of your heads that Apollonia-san is more than just a medic."

Daichi patted Kageyama's shoulder as he made his way inside, leaving Kageyama with his head somewhat tilted.

'_Unplayable Ace, huh?..._'

Well, according to Kageyama's superior—albeit horribly failing in the academic sense—mind, he had deduced that the title, 'Unplayable,' had to be because due to her unfortunate gender, she was not able to join them on the court, but, 'Ace?' An Ace was a moniker not given to just to any player—by no means was it a name to be taken lightly. Sure, Hinata professed that he of all people wanted to be Karasuno's Ace, but realistically, the little spitfire was far from reaching that level. Yet for Daichi—the captain of the team of all people—to grace a _girl_ no less who was supposed to be just their medical support, with a title like 'Ace,' even if she was 'Unplayable…'

Just what exactly was she to them?

…

"Do you want me to help you warm up?"

Seeing Apollonia and all of her overwhelming, one hundred and eighty-five centimeter glory passively looking down on him like a bug under a leaf had to be one of the most unnerving sensations Kageyama had ever felt.

If she wasn't all that Daichi and the rest hyped her up to be because of her skill, then surely it had to be because of her intimidation factor—he was quite sure that there was nothing he had seen in the world more terrifying than this girl's long, bony face leaning down on him with the coldest blue eyes shooting ice-covered arrows into him, freezing him from the inside out. Blizzards overtook the healthy, crimson blood flooding his veins, becoming hail and snow powder. A restrictive binding made of twined branches held tightly onto him, keeping him in her sights.

A bit of her ivory fringe sat above her arched eyebrow, her pale eyelashes rising and falling in a slow blink when he didn't answer. Seeing that the setter was for some odd reason proving less talkative than she, Apollonia took it upon herself—with a quiet, 'K_eep talking, make him feel comfortable_,' imparted by Sugawara from the sidelines—she continued:

"Tsukishima-kun and Yamaguchi-kun went on by themselves, and Hinata-kun," she started, pointing over to the trembling ball of nerves about to cower under the bench, "Ran away when I asked him."

Kageyama sucked in his lips between his teeth, amazed not only that Karasuno's 'Unplayable Ace,' was openly talking to him, that she was offering to help him warm up, but also,

Her accent… was one of the most _peculiar_ things he had ever heard.

She had said little more than their names when they had met, and honestly, concrete walls were more talkative than she was, so hearing her speak so casually—well, it wasn't exactly casual, both by her faltering tone and the all business subject matter—had taken him entirely off guard. She had such a spritely voice, something that did not entirely match her appearance: it was a wispy sort of vocalization, almost a whisper in nature, and completely rattled him that her spritely, wispy, whisper proved to be a stark contrast from her hard, noble appearance. He stood just looking at her until Sugawara and Daichi came up behind him, giving him a light slap upside the head to knock him back down to Earth. He raised his shoulders to his ears, before dropping into a waist-level bow.

"Thank you, Senpai," he said before snapping back up.

Apollonia glanced over to Sugawara and Daichi, who were nodding furiously as if to say, '_that means yes,_' and gesturing for the two of them to go on ahead. Apollonia glanced back to Kageyama—a bit amused that he was standing so straight in her presence when she did little but say two sentences to him—and ushered him to follow her in a light jog around the court. Kageyama quickly followed—with a little more gusto than he should have—his face puckered and alert, though he felt an odd pressure building in his head and chest.

"Remember to breathe, Kageyama-kun."

Startled again by her voice—and accent—Kageyama took in a fully belly of air, the pressure quickly fading, his body returning to normal.

Apparently, he had made the mistake of running with his arms tighter than a coiled wire and his lungs shut completely off—resulting in a poor running form and blue face. A truly shameful display for someone so dignified like himself.

Dignified, _right_.

They had slowed to a stop once beads of sweat began to pool across their brows, Kageyama relinquished himself of his warm up suit, shrugging them off to the side while Kiyoko handed him a water bottle. He accepted it gratefully, opening the spout so that he may take his fill. However, rather than taking a simple sip from the community water bottle, he found himself squirting the drink all over his jersey as a certain wing spiker's voice resonated throughout the gym.

"OOSSUU, looks like the Swan is ready to fly!"

Kageyama snapped over to Tanaka's bombastic voice, seeing him crouched with his fists raised in enthusiasm, with a thoroughly blank-faced Apollonia standing next to him with her jersey folded neatly in her hands. Initially, Kageyama couldn't comprehend why Tanaka would profess such a statement—with Daichi efficiently slapping him for using such volume, then Apollonia slapping him for calling her that silly moniker—until he did a double take towards the Finn next to him.

There was an air of confidence about her, though her poker face surely hid it. She may have not been competing, but there was a glint in her rime eyes that implied otherwise. It was unrealistic that she would actually join them in a match, whether it was practice or not, but there was something about her that felt so alive. Her sinewy, Nordic frame was not appalling, but it was living and breathing, like watching an animal in its habitat: so carnal and natural all at once. She shrugged her shoulders, the muscles lacing her deltoid down to her trapezius all the small of her back nearly tearing through her shirt as she moved. If it were not so perplexing, it would have been rather alarming to watch, as if he were studying an opponent much larger and well-bred than he prepare for battle.

He watched as her ivory head swiveled towards him, motioning him over to the sidelines. He followed over towards her, though the more he neared, he found himself stunned by the bandages that covered her right arm from knuckle to bicep. He quietly pointed to her arm without her notice, mentally probing Sugawara why she had wrapping along her arm that made her look like a street fighter.

Sugawara proved no help by mouthing, '_Ask her yourself_.'

He grimaced, eventually succumbing to his curiosity, "Uh, Apollonia-senpai," she turned towards him, slightly startling the young setter when he realized he had to look up at her, "why are you wearing bandages?"

Apollonia looked down at the wrap as if she were seeing it for the first time, twisting it and turning it under her scrutiny. She blinked slowly in surprise that Kageyama was asking such a personal question of her, though politely answered with, "It helps protect my arm. I don't have the healthiest joints and muscles, so I wrap it, sometimes I even put a sleeve over for good measure."

"That's not the _only_ reason," Sugawara called over from a safe distance. He chuckled when Apollonia's expression clenched slightly, though it quickly diminished when she stepped off to the side motioning for Kageyama to stretch with her. He obliged, bringing his leg up to his chest as Apollonia had done. They had stretched in silence for a while—the shortage of spoken words feeling less awkward than Kageyama would have assumed—and flexed their shoulders in preparation for peppering while the court still belonged to the other team for the remainder of their four minutes.

"It's nice that you found a commoner to stretch with, King. You were looking awful lonely on your throne over there."

_Goddamn condescending Tsukishima_.

Kageyama turned to gift the gangly middle blocker a sneer of his own flavor, though was cut short when he heard the peculiar Nordic dialect of the woman beside him.

"Tsukishima-kun, bring your arm in a little closer when you're loosening up, you're not doing it effectively."

Kageyama darted from Tsukishima's astonished expression to Apollonia's firm, unyielding stare: as if her eyes were like impenetrable minerals that had risen from deep within the earth, birthed solely to scold Tsukishima for his crass remark. It by far, had been the most expressive he had seen of Apollonia, and needless to say, it was astounding.

Tsukishima merely scoffed in response, though brought his arm in a little tighter while stretching it out, Yamaguchi doing the same. He turned back to Apollonia and was surprised to see that her face had completely smoothed over like sand, as blank and stoic as ever.

…

"Make sure you use your entire body to set, but don't," Apollonia scrunched herself together as if her body had knitted itself into one large wad of muscle fiber—which honestly was a humorous sight for Kageyama, though he stayed quiet as she continued, "you want to use each muscle effectively without maxing them out. It will save you the energy without sacrificing power."

Kageyama and Apollonia had been engaging in the mechanical operation of peppering while the other team still had the court: she would toss the ball, he'd set, and she'd receive what he offered her and return it right back, the process thus repeating itself for a few back-and-forths.

Her manner of defense seemed to come easy for her, her experience apparent through her natural handling of the ball. She knew how to properly bend her legs, how erect to keep her back, how to lift more with her core rather than her arms. her form overall was admirable, though had to wonder just when exactly Apollonia picked had first picked up that famous pleather ball, when she first developed a taste for the game.

"How long have you played volleyball," he asked as Apollonia stepped up towards him to fix his stance.

He flinched when her cold hands shifted his knee forwards, even more so when she ushered him to arch his back further.

"I've played since I was younger, though never really with anyone but myself," she returned.

"So you bumped, set, and spiked all on your own," he asked.

"For about ten years," she deadpanned.

'_Ten Years_.'

Kageyama raised his eyebrows—not only at just how long she had been playing volleyball, even if it wasn't ever competitive—but the fact that she had been playing _solo_ for such a length of time, not even another person to act as a crude blocking post, not even someone to offer her a simple toss.

He wanted to probe how it felt not to have even one other person to at least set properly for her for such a long stretch of time, but didn't want to intrude asking such a personal question, or sound so callous. It would have been fairly rude after all, to just come out and say, '_What did it feel like to stand alone?_' or something just as mindless.

He knew what it felt like to stand alone, though; to look behind him and see not even a single teammate in his midst, like being in the middle of a field in the dead of night, with calling birds and howling wolves, hissing insects and scurrying rats filing all around him, taunting him. He was helpless, so exposed right there on the court, bearing an inhumanly dangerous toss, yet his skill being useless as those he depended on had removed him from their chain, their flock.

He was once so keen on doing everything himself, repeating those words almost verbatim right in front of Daichi and the rest, he so was keen on bearing a heavy burden along his shoulders.

They looked up at him, not with respect, but with their noses haughty and arrogant, like a noble.

'_The King of the Court..._'

What a glorified name to bear, thought it was merely a shallow etch into a golden plaque that was hammered across his back. With a heavier hand they carved something darker into his skin.

'_Self centered_.'

'_Dictator_.'

He who bears a toss that decimates his opponents as well as his teammates, that was what he was known for. And after exiting middle school to step foot into the realm of high school students, he had assured himself that no matter who stood in his way, or who his teammates were, that he would make it known that he was worthy enough to stay on the court, that the bench would never beckon for him.

Even if he had to bump, set and spike all by himself.

Looking back, he felt ashamed that he would utter words so serrated, so selfish; yet here was a girl who didn't really have a choice. She didn't have anyone: not because she held any type of regality on the court, but because there had never been another person beside her, there had been no one to call her teammate back in Kalajoki.

She had started out with no subjects that would follow her, no one to direct or to order around. She was her own king and her own commoner, forced to do her own bidding, chastising herself when she missed or made a poor receive. For ten years, her volleyball technique had centered around her self; yet she seemed to be anything but self-centered.

He felt such a heavy burden on his shoulders, wearing the name, '_King_,' on his back, bearing the load of solitude on his person before Hinata ultimately came and stripped him of his title with that ungodly jump of his. But for ten years, Apollonia wore that same burden along those broad, sloping shoulders, like a festering disease in her sinewy, winding branches. But she did not appear to be broken down, she did not seem to be affected. She looked as strong as any athlete on the court, and as stoic as the unshakable visage of a tree, firmly rooted and self-assured.

"You must be pretty versatile then," he finally admitted.

She sucked her mouth in, fairly shocked by how casual his statement sounded, looking down at him almost gratefully that he would say something so kind to her, until the ephemerality of her expression had given way to something rather passive.

"I know the technique, but I wouldn't say that I'm versatile," she answered evenly.

Delicacy proved not to be Kageyama's strong point as he brainlessly blurted out,

"But, Daichi-san said that you were the 'Unplayable Ace.'"

A brief look of disbelief crossed her face, followed by a small inkling of irritation before it was smoothed over once more.

Still, her voice was substantially firmer as she turned a sharp one hundred and eighty degrees and called out, "_Daichi_."

The captain had his back turned towards the Finn, but the telltale signs of his body clenching were enough to illustrate his awareness that somewhere along the lines he had fumbled and stumbled into somewhere he probably didn't want to be. "Sorry, Apollonia-san, but we need to finish warming up, the court is ours now!"

He immediately sprinted onto the court with Sugawara all the way to the other side, leaving Apollonia with her eyebrow tightly arched, her mouth sucked in as she looked at him disapprovingly. She turned back to the young setter—who looked rather guilty for his blunt display—and handed the ball back to him, offering him but one statement.

"I'm just a girl from Finland, remember that."

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**

_(MANGA SPOILERS BELOW)_

_I wanted to include Tsukishima's thoughts on Apollonia after witnessing her antics the day prior, to kind of build what sort of mentality the freshman have for her: it is obvious that Hinata reveres her, Yamaguchi is intrigued by her, but Kageyama and Tsukishima are a bit more complex._

_Kageyama is thrown off because she is a stranger to them, but so highly regarded by his elders. Though he'd never admit it, he blindly trusts that she lives up to her name (which is the same mentality Hinata has for her, though Hinata is much more animated about it) and thus he unconsciously wants to study her and learn all that he can from her. _

_Think of it as his relationship with Oikawa when he was in middle school: he hears so much about this person who is older and far more skilled than him, though he himself is talented in his own right, so he wants to learn what makes Apollonia so special and either emanate it, or figure our how to make it work for himself (like Oikawa's serve/ blocks.)_

_Tsukishima on the other hand has issues with his brother: after building up Akiteru so much, it all came crashing down when he saw that he wasn't the team's ace. So he is understandably skeptical of Apollonia, and understandably skeptical of what exactly she is to the team: is she a figurehead, a practice partner, what is her worth to them?_

_He ultimately is taking a bitter approach to her character, because he is constantly bombarded with talk of how skilled she is, but he has yet to see anything more than simple medical treatment and buffoonery from her. He, unlike the other three, refuses to blindly accept her capabilities, but despite his stand on being realistic, he fails to put any trust in her, which will set himself up for humiliation in later chapters, where he will learn that though she may not speak a word about her own prowess, there is a very good reason why others do._

_Sorry for the somewhat fan service-y description of Apollonia' body, I just wanted to portray how she appears to the Regulars, since they are more accustomed to seeing small, mostly thin girls at their school and then big, old, Finnish Apple comes along and flips everything they know about women upside down on its head._

_OMIGOD MORE LONG ASS CHAPTERS I'M SORRY, Enough ranting, you all have a good night and Happy 4th of July Weekend!_


	10. Humility and Arrogance

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_"But, Daichi-san said that you were the 'Unplayable Ace.'"_

_A brief look of disbelief crossed her face, followed by a small inkling of irritation before it was smoothed over once more, though her voice was substantially firmer as she called out, "Daichi."_

_The captain had his back turned towards the Finn, but the telltale signs of his muscles clenching were enough to illustrate his awareness that somewhere along the lines he had fumbled and stumbled into somewhere he probably didn't want to be. "Sorry, Apollonia-san, but we need to finish warming up, the court is ours now!"_

_He immediately sprinted onto the court with Sugawara all the way to the other side, leaving Apollonia with her eyebrow tightly arched, her mouth sucked in as she looked at him disapprovingly. She turned back to the young setter—who looked rather guilty for his blunt display—and handed the ball back to him, offering him but one statement._

_"I'm just a girl from Finland, remember that."_

* * *

_Start of First Set_

_"Swan's Musings: Just a Girl from Finland."_

* * *

_"She went to Kenya for the week, over the break."_

_"And I heard she's going to America for her first year of High School!"_

_She thought that her lack of verbal communication with her classmates would be enough to keep her private life as such, but apparently not. In a fairly small setting like Kalajoki in an equally as small country like Finland, word travels fast._

_"She has the money to do something like that?"_

_Rather than spending her time at cinemas or restaurants, yes, she was able to persuade her parents to save up the money for international travel. Her father may have been able to provide her the privilege of flying for free due to his position at Finnair, but hotels and food weren't exactly free. _

_Granted she was obliged to assist them with their respective fields: menial things like filing, proofreading, and other intellectual chores. As well, she felt the obligation to learn as much as she could about the culture in which she would visit, so that she does not travel a foreign land in vain, assuming everyone would speak Finnish or English and abide by her personality._

_But trivial factors such as those meant little to the citizens of Kalajoki who were not quite as well off as she._

_"Yeah, and I heard she just went to go running, not even to build houses or set up mosquito nets like those humanitarians in the news."_

_She had to admit that she was selfish in that sense._

_"Just to run?!"_

_All right, very selfish._

_"What's wrong with the trails here? There are a hundred routes you can run just up in Oulu!"_

_Their voices were regrettably loud, even more so when she took her seat in front of them._

_"Well, if she can afford it."_

_There was a vile sort of enunciation on, 'afford,' too potent to ignore._

_"I only was able to buy new shoes last week because timber has gone up. My dad's been pretty busy lately."_

_"Same here."_

_"Well, when your mother is a professor and your father works for the airlines in Helsinki, I guess you come from pretty good money."_

_Money that went towards their house, the ghastly amounts of gasoline needed to take her mother to the University and back, Apollonia's future education fund, and her international travels. Money that was scrutinized daily by Apollonia when her mother allowed her to balance their respective checkbooks._

_"How frivolous."_

_Admittedly so._

_"How privileged."_

_Reluctantly accurate._

_"What could another country want with someone like her?"_

_"What is her worth?"_

_"She's just like the rest of us, she's nothing special." _

_"She's just a girl from Finland."_

"Apollonia-chan?"

Her hands were tightly crossed over her chest, her brow and jaw terse, her cheeks sucked in between her molars, her lips pursed in thought. It was an odd stance for a normally stoic Finn to wear—as her parents often deemed it rude in any situation to portray hostile emotions if she ever did show possess them—therefore in order to apologize to Sugawara for her off-putting body language without actually forcing herself to speak, she lowered her arms back to her side and turned her shoulders towards the setter, offering him her undivided attention.

"Yes, Sugawara?"

He seemed a bit embarrassed that she was so firm to call him by his surname without any decorum, chuckling quietly as though he was unable to properly grow a tolerance for it. He had taken notice of her tighter-than-a-wound-up-coil expression—bemused that she seemed so focused on the court when the referee had not even placed the whistle to his lips, then ultimately exasperated when it became blatantly obvious that she was far gone into the untraceable depths of that extraterritorial abyss known as her, '_mind_,' musing over something or other completely convoluted and probably as menial as an unperceivable twitch of Hinata's nose. When he finally broke her concentration, he took the liberty to tilt his head downwards, looking up at her with his brow raised in a humorously scolding fashion.

"You're doing it again," he hummed, referring to the way she would somehow drift into another world of self-contemplation.

Apollonia stiffened her neck, shrugging her shoulders in a hard, mechanical motion as she tried to will her prior thoughts away.

Sugawara—although pure in intention—pushed his boundaries, leaning in slightly to ask, "What were you thinking about, now?"

Though she meant to keep her face a still as ice, it cracked as her lips scrunched into a small frown, as if sharing her private thoughts would leave a bitter taste in her mouth. How was it that words came so effortlessly to the setter, Apollonia had to muse, though her subliminal inquiry was laced with an apprehension she begrudgingly acknowledged. It was almost physically painful that she was obliged to continue fueling the conversation, it was frustrating.

Still, he was making an effort to build a relationship with her, and it would have been rude for her to demolish the delightful, eggshell and ivory walls he masterfully erected around the two of them, complete with fine plaster edging and gentle light fixtures. She ironed out her hard face, trying blindly to appear as placid as she could manage without sacrificing the authenticity of her actions.

"You have been speaking generously of me to the first years. All of you."

Taken back—though not quite surprised—by the immediacy of her candor, Sugawara's hand jerked to the back of his neck, pulling on the skin as he offered her a nervous smile.

"Is there something wrong with that," he tried cautiously.

He assumed she was referring to the gold-plated nicknames they adorned her with and the over exaggeration of her prowess that he too was guilty in partaking. Perhaps they were a bit heavy handed when they painted such scripts next to her name, placing her as high if not higher than collegiate-level in both sports as well as intellect, but it was their discretion, it was _their_ opinion.

So, why did she seem so troubled by what they were saying about her, what they _personally_ thought about her? She did not have the authority to control what they allowed themselves to see her as, whether it was positive or negative.

Apollonia creased her brow in a subdued way, as if to quip, '_Of course there's something wrong with that_.'

"I do not think it is wise for you all to be talking me up so much. I'm just here to ensure that you all stay healthy for the tournaments to come. That's it."

She said it with such confidence; it was almost amusing that Sugawara just stared at her, as if she had just professed the most obvious lie straight to his face.

She may have been straight-faced, and she may have had a point downplaying her role in the team: after all, she was an ordinary girl of extraordinary height with fair grades and enough linguistics training for her to understand their language. But he had felt a fire stirring in the cold, Finnish shell of her's merely a year prior, when they were beaten, bloody and clipped, staring up forlornly at the sky as she so effortlessly glided above them. She looked down at them, not in pity, and not in curiosity, but with graciousness as they offered her a place at their side, on the ground, among their feathers. They allowed her to wear a cloak of ebony, they allowed her to glow that alabaster glow in the dead of night and hide in the dawn of the day. They took her as she was, wholeheartedly and unconditionally: as a solitary swan, an isolated Finn, an outsider, a tree among shrubs, every possibly metaphor and allusion they could muster, it didn't make a difference. They had accepted her.

She _was_ just a girl from Finland.

And that's exactly why they tacked so many titles onto her skin: because she was a clean slate, she was from a culture they were unfamiliar with, she was paved smooth by her wordless words and blank expression. She came to them with baggage, but was polite enough not to burden them, but to allow their burdens onto her, and for that they were grateful. For that was why they praised her as they did: because she was just as much of a stranger to them, yet she did not hesitate to hold her hand out towards them, to offer them her wing, her winding branch to sit upon. She willingly defied her nature of frivolous travel so that she could stay in a country that was completely backwards to her, solely for _them_.

Sugawara could only offer her a cocked grin, before he snorted and bared his teeth in an effortless smile.

"You're really weird, Apollonia-chan."

Apollonia—shocked, though not visually so—tilted her head to the side, forcing her body to stay completely poised and composed, grunting a quiet, inquisitive grunt.

"_Ordinary_ people don't stay in an entirely different country for the sake of babysitting a bunch of fallen crows, to just stand by them, to help them back to their feet," Sugawara countered, pointing towards the Regulars as they scrambled for their positions. "Even after everything that's happened, you still didn't leave."

"They have the right to know just how, '_weird_' you are," he finished with a self-confident nod.

Sugawara had to hand it to the Finn—even with the poetic undertone of his little speech—she had stayed almost completely poker-faced from beginning to end, as if his words were mute against her skin. But her eyes glistened over, like water taking a glassy appearance upon the arrival of winter, refracting and reflecting his words, multiplying their colors, the black of their plumage lighting up in all tones of violets, blues and greens.

The white of her lashes slowly erased the spectrum mixing within the ring of her iris, revealing the plain, pair of razor-edged eyes she always seemed to wear.

"That is your reasoning then," she stated stoically.

Sugawara grinned,

"Yes."

* * *

_Vs. Aoba Jousai, End of First Set_

_"Precaution."_

* * *

"UUWAH!"

_BOOM_.

"SORRY!"

_BAM_.

"AGH!"

_CRASH_.

"Oh my," Sugawara mused, tracing his fingers around his temples. "Hinata really doesn't handle stress well."

Doesn't handle stress well?

Hinata Shouyou, first year middle blocker of the Karasuno High School Volleyball Club doesn't handle stress well?

He had blown an internal fuse after Shimizu spoke barely four words to him—four harmless words that somehow were able to turn his face from a pale green to crimson in the blink of an eye. He looked as though he would have emptied the full contents of his bowels one way or another right there on the court when facing the Seijou regulars. And he repeatedly dived in front of receives that did not belong to him, rather meant for Daichi or Tanaka. As well, he was was fumbling around like a newborn chick, all clumsy and unsure of himself.

And for the love of God and volleyball, he even knocked the referee off of his stool.

To say that Hinata was nervous would have been the understatement of the year.

He was not just nervous.

He was practically going into cardiac arrest right there on the court.

They were miles behind their opponents, with the score sitting at match point in regards of Aoba: 24-13, though Daichi—as the dutiful captain he was—ensured that they could steadily rack up points if they were able to keep their cool.

Sounded simple enough.

Unfortunately, their cool quickly turned to unstable stomach acid and unshakeable anxiety as whom else but the fifty-two kilogram shell of nerves himself, Hinata Shouyou, scuffled to the baseline. Sugawara softly hissed through his teeth, running his hand through his ashen hair.

"When it counts too," he murmured, "this is going to be too much pressure for him."

Apollonia too looked on at the gut-wrenching sight before her—even though she was not on the court with him, she could feel his insides wringing themselves dry into little infinity knots, and she could feel his bones shattering under the pressure he felt to succeed, to actually to just hit the damn ball in general.

She peeked through the slits in her fingers that she had been pressing against her forehead before sucking in her lips, exhaling sharply in agreement through her nose. Sliding her hand around behind the curve of her neck, she shifted her attention to the Seijou opponents across the court.

They were expectedly smug by the poor middle blocker's audible nerves crackling throughout the gym, unable to hide the wide—though somewhat bemused—sneers across their lips, and the effortless way they crouched, as if they were not even making an effort at all to play seriously any longer.

Hinata held the ball in his grip, curling over it as another bout of nausea washed over him, though he was trying his damnedest not to sprint out of the gym for the bathrooms. He readied himself for the serve, his hands trembling, his fingers twitching as if all his prior knowledge of volleyball was tossed out the window, his-

"FFFWWWEEEEW!"

"UOAH!"

The referee's whistle caught him by surprise, and instinctively he jerked his arm up and overhead, hitting the ball more with his fingertips than his palm, unable to make a proper parabola to scale the net. Despite its shaky execution, it bore a certain amount of power—more from the horrendous mixture of adrenaline and anxiety than actual muscle strength—and seemed to be soaring at a fairly fast pace,

_SMACK_.

Straight for the back of Kageyama's head.

Apollonia and Sugawara's eyes tore open, both bringing their fist to their mouth, biting on the bit of skin between their thumb and index finger, inhaling loudly through their noses in perfect synchronization.

"Oh no," Sugawara whispered after the referee blew the whistle declaring Aoba Jousai the winner of the first set, "This is not good."

Both setter and medic watched as Tanaka and Tsukishima broke out in a mortifyingly boisterous fit of laughter, instigating a dangerously pulsing vein to nearly burst from Kageyama's head.

"Don't laugh at him," Sugawara shouted towards the two. He threw his head back with exasperation, watching Kageyama with a hesitant eye as he made his way towards a cowering Hinata. The middle blocker seemed to shrink further and further into the ground, like a planting growing in reverse, with Kageyama expanding larger and larger in form, his temper rising off of him like dark steam.

Sugawara glanced around when he heard a rustling of bags, peering over his shoulder to find Apollonia digging through one of her medical carriers, pulling out several items and set them on the bench as she zipped the case back up, returning to her full stature.

"Apollonia-chan, what is all that for," Sugawara asked, motioning to her myriad of tools she had set out for herself. Apollonia glanced up at him before returning her attention to slipping a pair of disposable medical gloves over her hand, subtly implying that her ministrations should be quite obvious.

Both glanced toward the two first years, somewhat surprised at Kageyama's controlled demeanor that he exuded in spite of his frustration. To their relief, Hinata seemed to walk away unscathed, whatever Kageyama had said setting off some sort of switch within his subconscious, as if it brought him firmly down to Earth—both comforted as well as befuddled by his teammate's exclamation. He sprinted to his side as they bowed to the Seijou Regulars, signaling the end of the first set as well as the three minute break each team received to switch sides of the court.

"Kageyama-kun," Apollonia called, motioning the boy over towards her once the team had ceased bowing.

She had a flashlight in her gloved hand—something that thoroughly confused the setter as he skulked towards her—though when he walked up it became apparent why.

She gestured that he tilt his head back, opening up one of his eyelids and shining the light through before clicking it off, opening up his other eyelid and repeating the process. She took her glove off, bringing her hand close to his ear and snapped sharply, the sound waves vibrating against his ear, though not enough to agitate him. He looked back at her, bemused though not willing to verbalize it, though did not need to as she stuffed the flashlight back in her bag, answering hime with a simple, "Precaution."

She looked down at Kageyama, seeing that he did not seem satisfied by her one word response, still frozen in shock that she had even called him over just to shine a light in his eye and snap her fingers next to his ear.

"It's a rudimentary check for concussions. I don't think that Hinata-kun is capable of that much strength," she began, raising her eyebrow when Tanaka could not help but snort as the middle blocker in question shrunk back with an embarrassed frown, "but I just wanted to see."

Kageyama nodded slowly, watching as her eyes glazed over him, like melting ice, her voice rigid and mechanical when she spoke again.

"You seem alright, are you feeling dizzy or disoriented?"

Kageyama shook his head, "Uh, no, Apollonia-senpai. I'm fine."

Apollonia made an off sort of shape with her eyebrows, cocking them in a way that came off as disapproving.

"Please, just refer to me as, 'Apollonia,'" she returned lightly, before tucking her flashlight back in her medical bag.

Kageyama blinked in a sort of thunderstruck manner up at her, feeling his face take on an almost imperceivable rose tint, though did his best to hide it walking back onto the court. He tried to return to his teammate's side with an expression that was skillfully composed, though the skin under his eyes quickly darkened when he received chirps and barks of, '_Oh, the King gets the special treatment_,' and, '_I won't lose to you, Kageyama_,' from Tsukishima and Tanaka respectively, before Daichi quelled them both.

Once Kageyama made his way back to the court, hiding the somewhat flustered expression he bore instigated by his teammates, Apollonia redirected her attention towards her right at the fidgeting carrot-top engrossed in a one-side staring contest with one of the Aoba Middle Blockers.

"Hinata-kun."

Hinata flinched and turned towards the Finn tipping her head back in a calling manner, nervous that she too would bear a few passive-aggressive words for him regarding his shameful display in the first set. This was '_Karasuno's Swan_,' after all: for all he knew, she could probably pick him up, heft him over her head and throw him right out of the gym!

He shuffled over to the shadow of her statured presence, the white curtains of her bangs and eyelashes more eerie than they possibly intended to be, the stone walls of her face smooth but firm.

All at once, he felt compelled to cower once again.

But when her hand had shifted from her side—unfortunately causing him to shut his eyes and wince against his better instincts—Hinata peeked through his lashes to see Apollonia's long white hand held out gently in front of her. Her palm was pale and calloused, evident of years and years of serving, spiking and handling the grunt of volleyball just as they all had. Yet she offered it so calmly to him, like a soft bramble of branches and leaves, cloaking a bit of spring buds and fruit. Hinata just looked stupidly at her hand, wondering if he were supposed to see an animal in it like a cloud, or analyze her future by the lines in her cracked skin, something other than just stare at her like a painting on a wall.

"Surely," her whispering voice jolted him back to reality, "they have high fives in Japan."

Hinata's jagged orange hair flipped up as he stretched his neck to meet Apollonia's eye line, finding her face completely even, completely poised, save the glint of lightheartedness almost invisible within the ring of her iris. The words finally registering in his head, a wide smile graced his mouth, a bit of confidence building in his feet, slowly spreading up the line of his back until he was once again bubbling over with energy. He bounced side to side on the balls of his feet, as if he were a child eagerly awaiting the arrival of their parents at school, a small noise of delight fruitlessly muffled as he smacked his right hand down against Apollonia's.

Apollonia did her best to hide her amusement, begrudgingly wearing a stain of pink on her cheeks under the wisps of her cropped hair, and offered the middle blocker a polite, "You'll do better next set," as her hand fell in place back at her side.

Hinata nodded furiously, holding his fists up to his chests as he yelled, "Osu, Senpai! I'll be better!"

"Uuuwaah, Apple-san is giving out high fives," Tanaka hollered, running up to the two, "Apple-san, wish me luck too! Wish me luck too!"

He brought his hands above his shoulders, curling his hands into fists after Apollonia reluctantly returned his gesture. Tanaka turned to the nearest teammate—being the unfortunate Tsukishima—and barked, "Tsukishima, high five your senpai, it'll do you some good!"

"I don't think a high five will make a difference in the game," Tsukishima returned dryly.

Entirely disregarding Tsukishima's negative comment, Tanaka and Hinata pulled on him arms to lead him towards the Finn, trying to pry his hands from his chest in effort to at least touch knuckles with the woman. Apollonia shook her head, her lips puckering in fatigue as she watched the two try to drag the beanstalk closer towards her against his own will, with said beanstalk growing increasingly annoyed both by being manhandled by his teammates and being forced to interact with a certain third year that, in his own personal opinion, lacked any discernable personality or worth.

He was—somewhat—saved as Daichi hollered for the three of them to switch sides of the court, scolding them for holding up the game and behaving so mindlessly in front of their opponents.

Sugawara chuckled as he made his way back to Apollonia's side. She arched her eyebrow at his quirky grin, his perfect line of teeth visible between his parted lips, the mark on his cheek almost lost in the crinkle at the corner of his eye. She shifted her attention to the hand he held out to her, gesturing that despite his absence from the court, his palm required a little attention itself.

Apollonia responded accordingly and graced Sugawara's outstretched hand with a small slap, though paused when his fingers sculpted themselves into a 'thumbs-up' gesture.

"Well done," he chirped good-naturedly.

Apollonia merely blew a bit of fringe off her eyebrow, reverting her attention from the setter off to the court before them, boring down at the Regulars as they took their positions.

* * *

_Vs. Aoba Jousai: Third Set_

_"Oikawa."_

* * *

If there was anything stronger than their girlish cheering, it was the strained snarl decorating Tanaka's tighter-then-knotted rope expression.

"Kageyama, who is this laidback guy," Tanaka questioned through gritted teeth, pointing to the boy across the court: clad in aqua and blue waving toward the purrs and squeals aimed at him from above.

"I find him irritating."

"That's Oikawa Tooru, the captain of Seijou," Daichi answered, slapping Tanaka's arm in order to wipe his idiot expression from his skin.

"Oikawa-san is a super aggressive setter," Kageyama added thereafter, "His attack power is at the top of his team."

Hinata jolted in astonishment: for a skilled player like Kageyama to be praising another, well it was almost like a blessing, like a king praising another king.

"And he's got a terrible personality," Kageyama deadpanned.

Make that, king _roasting_ another king.

"Coming from you, that's scary," Hinata blurted out.

"Maybe even worse than Tsukishima," the setter added, not without a sideways glance from the middle blocker.

Tanaka queried where Kageyama knew the alleged captain, the boy apparently being his elder during middle school at Kitagawa Daiichi.

"I learned how to serve and block by watching him," Kageyama noted, "His skills are extremely high."

Hinata turned a sickly shade of blue as he turned towards Kageyama's elder, the rest of the team following as they watched Oikawa softly scolded by his coached, then ushered to warm up for the match.

Oikawa obliged and took off in a light jog, acknowledging the yowling girls in the stands with a coy wink—which merely darkened Tanaka's already brutish expression before it was smacked away by the back of Daichi's hand. Apollonia turned her head towards the captain as he made his way off, meeting Sugawara's line of sight as he disappeared towards the outside walls.

"That's apparently Kageyama's old senpai," Sugawara started upon seeing Apollonia's intrigued expression, "He learned almost everything he knows just from watching him."

Apollonia hummed quietly, better fascinated that Kageyama's skills were almost immaculately bred than she was of Oikawa: he simply had to wash his eyes over an individual, scanning them, their movements engraving themselves into his brain like a dagger down the side of a tree. And a powerhouse like Kageyama, with accuracy that rivaled a sniper rifle, and strength quite impressive for a young Japanese boy of his build, it was peculiar—though fascinating—that the inspiration for his skills was trotting around the gymnasium with an easygoing grin across his lips, observing them as he circled the perimeter like a grazing predator.

Apollonia hummed mutely as she watched him puttering along the sidelines, drinking in each member as they prepared for the next set, absorbing the feel of their movements and the tension within their stance, quirking a small smile before returning to his warm up routine.

And slowly, she exhaled.

…

_20 - 24, Third Set_

"Only one more point," Sugawara mused, arms crossed.

Apollonia returned Sugawara's statement with a soft nod, glancing from side to side at each team in regards of their reactions towards the match point: the Seijou Regulars despite being near the brink of death with Karsuno holding the last point gently in their talons, did not waver, the one particular Kindaichi soaring higher than he had before. With one single snap of his arm, he aimed a hard slam down into Tsukishima's outstretched limbs, though due to the gangly first year's inexperienced and hesitant form, the ball bounced off his skin in a messy fashion, out of bounds.

Sugawara clicked his tongue, offering, "He'll need a little training for his receives," before glancing expectantly at the Finn next to him.

Apollonia aimed a rather displeased look towards him, as if to say, '_Well, it's not going to be me._'

Unflustered, Sugawara pursed his lips and nodded a stubborn little nod, a firm retort that stated, '_Believe me, it will be you_.'

He swiveled back to the match, though raised his chest a bit when a certain, coffee-haired captain made his way onto the court.

"They are putting in Oikawa," he noted, his voice peaking with interest.

His presence was a powerful one, as if the entire team had shed their skin, reapplying a better coat more refined, more confident then they wore before. He raised his arm, and held it stable as he pointed towards Tsukishima, that cool-headed grin still carved into his mouth like sculpted wax.

It was as if the doors had ripped open, a hard gust of wind pouring through as he stepped back, tossing the ball into the air, lunging forwards before his entire body had lifted off the ground. Power poured out of him, his vigorous strength spiraling all around him, covering him as if donning silken robes of regality.

It was as marvelous as it was chilling.

And, she was left speechless.

That serve, the very power that glided from his toes up to his extended fingertips, sent shockwaves throughout the gym. Energy pulsed from him like ripples along violent waters, as strong and intimidating as the very waves they crashed against.

It honestly took her breath away, every miniscule movement of his languid limbs. The Japanese had such lithe bodies, slim but not frail: they were built to wither under gravity, but there was something pulsing in their veins that carved them from stone, that made them impenetrable to thrashing waves around their knees.

He was so captivating, the way he shifted and glided with the bitter Eastern winds, the sound of his hand meeting leather like an explosion within the gymnasium. In a sense, it was mystifying for Apollonia to watch.

But as Oikawa's feet once again returned to the earth beneath him, sliding proudly over the tile as if the floor beneath him were the back of his onlookers, his peers, his commoners, she felt compelled to muse:

That was positively the most arrogant serve she had ever witnessed.

...

_After the Match._

"No matter how excellent Hinata and Kageyama's combo may be, we still need to strengthen our perimeter," Daichi had started, inwardly frustrated that he had to admit such a fact, though understanding that even the raw talent that they held in their hands already was not enough to assure a certain victory.

Apollonia had hummed in agreement on his left side, Sugawara nodding on his right as the team walked out of the gymnasium, victory just barely resting in their palms. Hinata was trying to persuade the Finn to let him carry one of the medical bags—both which were roughly the size of the small Decoy, large enough to fit him snugly in if he curled into a little ball—though was lightly pushed away, then finally yanked away by Kageyama. They continued to walk on in their staggered line, though found a slender shadow standing idly, almost as if he were waiting for them.

"Ooh, as expected of the captain," came his light, haughty voice, "you really understand the situation, huh?"

He turned to the murder of crows, stained with a bit of ivory from their resident swanling, and offered them a little grin as they halted in their tracks.

Tanaka glided forwards, with his hands in his pockets and his spine arched in a rather intimidating manner. He lifted his chin up to the Aoba captain, trying to instigate a reaction that would justify a quick brawl before Daichi could pull him back. Hinata as well strode forwards, though was clutching the wing spiker's jersey as if the millimeters of fabric would protect him from hurricanes or earthquakes. Oikawa offered a spritely laugh, gesturing that he came with only good intentions and nothing more.

He turned to Hinata, gracing the boy with a small compliment in regards of attacks—unfortunately for the team, Hinata was delicate when it came to praises—and almost immediately, Hinata's forced sense of fortitude had withered into flustered and flattered mush, the boy blushing and scratching the back of his head as he tried to downplay his own talents.

Oikawa then turned to Tsukishima, implying that it would benefit him as well as the other first years to improve their inexperienced style of defense. The middle blocker watched him with wary golden eyes, narrowing as they watched the Aoba captain placed his hands in his pockets, gifting each one of them with a cheerful grin.

"Your attacks were certainly incredible, but if all of your receives are slow and hesitant, you'll reach your limit sooner, won't you?"

He seemed pleased that he had left the Karsuno murder stunted with silence, turning to leave peacefully, though stopped himself when the boisterous voice of Hinata brought his attention back around.

"We'll do special training," he yelled confidently, taking a hold on an explicitly displeased Tsukishima. Oikawa regarded the two, his wispy grin had faded for a frown that looked genuinely serious.

"Receiving isn't something you can improve in a short amount of time though, your captain certainly knows that," he retorted lightly.

He shifted again to make his exit, though as he scanned the crowd one final time, he made eye contact—regrettably having to look up into those calcite caverns—and tilted his head, a small grin budding within the gap of his lips.

"I don't believe I've ever seen your around here before, you must be new, Shiro-kun," he began, gesturing to the bemused Finn, a dark hue taking his tongue.

"You're obviously not their coach," he started skeptically, assuming that this tall, bizarre-looking individual was of high school age.

"And only one manager can stand on the court," he continued before regarding Apollonia's long muscular frame,

"And surely someone of your height would be on the court if they were a player."

With a slick grin that held nothing but bad intentions, like the graceful curve of a snake's mouth, Oikawa tied up his loose sentence with a final question, taking his time sculpting each word as though they were carved from gold and honey.

"So I wonder, what worth does that leave you?"

From underneath her clothing, Apollonia could feel her skin frost over, the rime thin and scratchy against the inner lining of her jacket.

_'What could another country want with someone like her?'_

_'What is her worth?'_

_'She's just like the rest of us, she's nothing special.'_

_'She's just-'_

Tanaka took a step forwards with his fist raised and was quickly pulled back by Sugawara and Daichi, though they were unable to mask his coarse, four letter retorts that were aimed at the captain.

They glanced back at Apollonia expecting to see her brow furrowed in agitation, or at least an inkling of amusement, anything at all to show the Oikawa's words had registered with her. Anything at all to show that she was still conscious, feet firmly planted to the ground.

"Well, what is then," Oikawa pressed, "You're surprisingly quiet."

However, they were far more terrified, not because any of their aforementioned theories were confirmed, but because there was absolutely, positively _nothing_ on her face. Unadorned, freshly painted walls could not have been any blanker, any cleaner. If there was anything more intimidating than explosive volatile anger, it was Apollonia's aptitude for wearing expressions less legible than a book written in an entirely different language. It was the sort of silence that was followed by the graceful swipe of a polished knife, the effortless thrust of a diamond sword, a violent thrashing as murderous as it was regal.

They flinched when she shifted her weight to one leg, turning her nose slightly up at him, her mouth firmly drawn in a straight line. Her eyes had taken on a temperature colder than absolute zero, the blue sharpening into a chromatic gray finer than any European silverware.

"Are you asking my name," she began, her tone a dull, rough ebony, "Because if you are attempting to upset me without even having the dignity to ask my name first, I must inform you," she stepped forwards, her long, bowing neck leaning slightly down towards him,

"Insulting a Finnish woman is possibly the most dangerous offense one can endeavor, regardless of your upbringing."

Other than the tight way Oikawa was biting on his lower lip, or just how high his eyebrows sat upon his face, struggling to come to terms with the fact that he not only assumed Apollonia to be a male, but he had spoken so rudely to her, he seemed to be overall composed.

"Oh," he said simply.

He tilted his head, and adjusted his voice to not play at such a high, boyish octave in favor a more controlled tone.

"How… interesting. You're a ways away then, aren't you?"

Apollonia did not respond, instead just standing in front of him like a towering block of alabaster with her face chiseled and mute.

He held out his hand to what Apollonia assumed to be a western greeting. "Let me start over then. Oikawa Tooru. Or I guess for you, Tooru Oikawa, Captain of Aoba's Volleyball Club," he said lightly.

Apollonia glanced at his hand before responding, "Apollonia Manner, Athletic Trainer."

She clasped her hand with his—a little more aggressively than she probably should have—and was unexpectedly amused when Oikawa flinched under her frigid grip. With two solid shakes, he had yet to relinquish his hand from hers, holding it with a taunting persuasion, as if the person who slackened their grip first would be the one to roll over on their back, to bare their teeth in submission.

He turned slightly to Kageyama, speaking still to the Finn, his sight never leaving the fellow setter.

"So, you're their caretaker, then," he hummed, his eyes narrowing, "Be sure to take good care of my precious kohai. I intend to crush him, setter to setter."

Hand still intertwined with Apollonia, Oikawa lowered his voice to a deeper, more relaxed decibel, uttering, "I would like to show him that he still much to learn."

Apollonia raised her eyebrow, the ivory line lifting up towards her jagged fringe, and placed a bit of pressure on his knuckles with her thumb to return his attention towards her.

She bore down at him, able to see her own feathered hair and chalky skin in his eyes like a tinted mirror, searching the shallow pits of his stare for the thread of weakness that would altogether unravel his conceited remarks. He was unwavering in return, staring back up at her with an easiness, almost challenging her to unearth his placid expression if she dare find the means. But, when she discovered the loose string swimming between the brown of his iris and the almost black of his pupil, she quickly, meticulously and skillfully...

Plucked it.

"Your serve is very unrefined."

Oikawa's smile had turned into a strained line; as if it were trying it's best to keep from frowning.

Unfortunately, Apollonia was not finished.

"I'm surprised that Kageyama-kun's own serve—a serve impressive in its own right—was actually learnt from you. But, I guess that you should feel honored that your skills have been transferred to someone _better suited_."

She narrowed her eyes when the grip on her hand had tightened the slightest; she noted his nose scrunching in the building frustration evident in his demeanor. Placing her hand back at her side, she picked the bag back up off the ground and shifted the strap across her shoulder, her eyes never leaving Oikawa's.

To her surprise, Oikawa beamed before turning away, his hand raised for a departing wave.

"You're a funny one, Medic-chan. I look forward to talking with you again," he chirped, swiveling his head towards the murder and their swan, offering them an empty, '_good luck_,' before turning back, his hands in his pockets as he strode off towards the buses.

Once out of earshot—well, not entirely—Tanaka exploded with laughter, holding his knees for support. Hinata ran up in front of Apollonia, his hands shaking with excitement, though he fruitlessly tried to hide it when he struggled not to grasp for her jacket's hem, ultimately stepping towards her side, clawing at the medical bag at her hip, mewling, "Apple-senpai, that was so cool! So coool, Apple-senpai!" Sugawara detached the small middle blocker from her hip when Apollonia turned away completely red-faced, her shoulders hunched slightly as if she had made the gravest mistake of her life.

Tsukishima—however placid his face appeared to be—seemed to scrutinize the Finn from beneath his glasses, trying to formulate an expression to properly display the mixture of emotions he felt towards her interaction with the Aoba captain. He was impressed—not enough to actually nod his head to—but was a bit curious why she would stick up so valiantly for the setter, when she really bore no relation to him, nor could she really validate her explanation that Kageyama's serve was better than his elder's. Though he possibly could have injected a coarse remark himself, he had felt compelled not to, other than the terse, "Yamaguchi, stop that," in response to his friend shamelessly gawking at the towering Finn.

Kageyama stood back, shuffling a small step back, unable to put himself in her sights—completely blindsided that she had the gall to praise him as she did, to essentially dust him in gold with the simple words she spoke. She successfully deflated Oikawa's bloated ego for the sake of his own pride, and she did it all with that throaty, Nordic dialect—her voice beyond composed as if she had fully prepared a written, typed, and revised script for the brief span of minutes that she spoke with his old Kitagawa teammate. He was embarrassed, first and foremost, but at the same time, he felt a sense of gratitude that she would go out of her way to talk up his abilities, whether he deserved it or not.

He snapped to attention when Daichi stepped forwards and graced the Finn with a polite, "Good work," instigating yet another stain of red along her ears as she adjusted her bags, rearranging her face to keep in straight and stoic.

He stepped forwards towards his captain and the Finn, assuring, "Don't let him get to you, he just likes to get people riled up."

However, Daichi did not seem fazed at all by Oikawa; in fact, his demeanor was rather dark with confidence, evident as he turned towards his team, reluctantly admitting that they didn't have all that much time to drastically improve, but offered them a solemn statement.

"It's about time _he_ returned," he began, turning his attention towards Tanaka as he gasped with excitement, then to Apollonia as she raised her eyebrows in recognition.

"Who are you talking about," Hinata asked, leaving Apollonia's side for his captains'. Daichi grinned and looked off beyond the buses, as if he could see straight through the crowds and traffic, the fluttering aves hopping from tree to tree, and the hollow walls of their school to the slender, but boulder-faced back of their smallest, albeit loudest, crow.

"Karasuno's Guardian Deity."

_Nishinoya Yuu._

* * *

_Omake: "A Flight Full of Arrogance."_

* * *

"Did you really mean what you said about Kageyama's serve," Sugawara asked behind his cupped hand as they made their way to the bus. Apollonia offered a small noise of inquiry, as if she did not initially hear him, before arching her neck in a manner that neither confirmed nor denied such allegations.

"Oikawa made it clear that he has a complex against Kageyama, I used it to my advantage," she stated openly. Sugawara seemed to have desired more of her explanation, glancing from Kageyama to Apollonia and back with his eyebrows raised.

Apollonia blinked slowly before offering a small retort to quench Sugawara's curiosity, "I'll admit, it's a fair serve that Oikawa has…"

She paused, sharpening her eyes slightly as if the Aoba captain were standing right there before them.

"But beneath one who flies with arrogance in their span," she noted quietly, her voice barely legible even to herself, "is a heavy weight of self-loathing holding them down."

Sugawara lifted his chin at Apollonia's statement, a bit mystified by her words, though was not sure if he thoroughly understood. Apollonia regarded his expression, and offered possibly a better explanation.

"Kageyama-kun should not learn moves that were bred from self-loathing," she began, "He should have someone not quite as pretentious as Oikawa standing above him."

Sugawara grinned, fully gaining the clarity of what the Finn was trying to express through her broken dialogue, allowing him a glimpse of just what exactly was running through her sculpted ivory mind.

"You're right," he mused before nudging Apollonia's bag with good-natured jest.

"Take good care of him, 'Apple-Senpai.'"

Sugawara snickered as he boarded the bus, the sound of Apollonia choking on her own breath rather loud in the stagnant, evening air.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_So I wanted to start out with the mentality of Apollonia's old Finnish classmates when she was back in her homeland, about a year or two before she set off for America. I wanted to show that their words had a lasting effect on her, as she is still mulling over their chides, even after so many years, even after maturation. It'll play into how her Japanese classmates interact with her, as well as how Tsukishima views her, and how she views herself._

_This chapter was meant to depict Apollonia as more than a medic, so I hope I portrayed that well enough! Sure, she checks for concussions, and watches their form, but I want her to offer a sense of poise and humility by her demure personality. We'll start to see that in later chapters as well, plus soooo muuuuch mooooore. _

_Also, in Finland there is a greater sense of equality between genders, and it actually is very dangerous to insult a Finnish woman, because those fine ladies take no shit whatsoever. They're to type who carries their own bags regardless of weight, pays for their own dinners, and can do basically what any man can do. (That's just the crude, down and dirty version, I could write a whole essay on Finnish culture, but that's for another day!) You could say that due to her heritage and upbringing, Apollonia is somewhat of a feminist, so for Oikawa to be putting her down like that didn't instigate the kindest of reactions from the Finn._

_Enough of my musings, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and stayed tuned, because next, guess who we'll be re-introducing?_

_NISHINOYA AND ASAHI. (But not exactly in the way you might expect...)_

_GOOD NIGHT/DAY. _

_P.S. Thank you for all of the reviews, favorites and follows. You gorgeous creatures, you make me blush, each and every one of you!_


	11. What Holds Us Back

_**Disclaimer**_: Haikyuu! belongs entirely to Haruichi Furudate, I only own the OC character, nothing else.

**_This fic follows the manga, so there are implications towards later plots that are not addressed in the anime at the moment. If you do not want spoilers about future story lines past the anime episodes, read with caution!_**

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_"It's about time he returned," he began, turning his attention towards Tanaka as he gasped with excitement, then to Apollonia as she raised her eyebrows in recognition._

_"Who are you talking about," Hinata asked, leaving Apollonia's side for his captains'. Daichi grinned and looked off beyond the buses, as if he could see straight through the crowds and traffic, the fluttering aves hopping from tree to tree, and the hollow walls of their school to the slender, but boulder-faced back of their smallest, albeit loudest, crow._

_"Karasuno's Guardian Deity."_

_Nishinoya Yuu._

* * *

_'Soon this childish body_

_Will have all its power_

_And one day a man's strength_

_In its arm will flower.'_

_- 'A Child's Song to a Widow,' Jaako Juteini_

* * *

_Present_

_"Yamaguchi's Courage; A Finn's Oath."_

* * *

_After the Aoba Jousai Match_

He had been internally battling with himself to just go up and speak to her: he was both restricted by the cold glare Tsukishima had directed towards him at the mere mention of her name, as well as his own pitiful demeanor. He wasn't _afraid_ of her, he was just afraid to speak to her and slip up and accidentally spout something incoherent or stupid. She was a smart, studious student with grades that apparently toed the water of collegiate. As well, she was apparently a fair volleyball player according to his senpais, while he was the only first year left out standing in the rain with Sugawara, Kinoshita and Narita.

He wasn't offended that he shared the sidelines with his elders—they were probably very skilled in their own right—but he did feel a little shut out that since he wasn't as talented as Kageyama or Hinata, or as tall as Tsukishima, he was put on the backburner.

Along the sidelines was Apollonia as well, but she didn't look as though she was left out in the cold: there was a certain amount of pride she wore, whether it was just the shape of her face or the positioning of her body. It was admittedly admirable, that just because she was a woman—and thus was by rules and regulations, not allowed to play alongside them in actual competitions—she stood as though she would be called to the court in an instant. She had a look not of hesitation that he wore, but of _expectation_, like she was ready to step from the shadows, her alabaster cloak worn for all to see.

He desired to profess his awe towards her, but had suffered enough of Tsukishima's reprimanding to know that the phrase, '_She's so cool_,' had now become a vile curse in Tsukishima's vocabulary.

'_Since she's been here, she hasn't really done anything except check for concussions and stretch with us_,' he had said as they walked a few steps behind the group making their way home. '_Yet they talk about her as if she invented volleyball itself_.'

Perhaps, since Tsukishima after so many years was still sore over seeing Akiteru in the stands, while his teammates battled mercilessly on the court. It must have been like searching the desert for his brother, only to find him buried under miles of sand, miles away from the kingdom he thought he had resided in, miles away from the crown he thought he wore.

But with his lingering feelings over Akiteru, he had altogether missed the peculiar air about their Finnish elder. There was something off about the way she stood, the way she acted and spoke—though she seldom did utter more than quiet sounds or sighs. It was probably just a Finnish thing, just something about her culture that separated from their own—but that was just it—she was different from them, she was _foreign_. She had brought something from her lands up north that they had been lacking, something entirely different both culturally and mentally. In a way, it was like a fresh drink of water to just stare at her in all of her foreign glory, despite being totally ignorant to what exactly the people of Finland possessed that set them apart from the Japanese.

And not only was she foreign in blood, but in gender.

In short: a woman.

Admittedly, he knew nothing about women—the girls who rarely did speak to him just wanted to know useless information about Tsukishima—but Apollonia had been the first one that he had actually been within a close range to see, smell and take her in for what she was. Kiyoko's beauty just sent him into a dizzy frenzy; but due to Apollonia's somewhat jarring appearance, she was twice as intimidating as Kiyoko, but as well, twice as fascinating.

He wanted to know: he wanted to know more about her, about her skills, about Finland, anything he could learn.

Maybe, if he knew, then just maybe she'd be able to mold him into a player worth of standing on the court.

"Yamaguchi, what are you doing?"

He hadn't even realized that his steps had lengthened in stride thus surpassing Tsukishima's. Tsukishima always had a foot ahead of him, in everything in fact, so understandably the speckled player must have been startled to see his trusty sidekick departing from his side.

Yamaguchi flinched, but did not slow, instead taking another large step, then another towards the group. He turned his shoulder and offered his a friend a small wave.

"Sorry, Tsukki, I just wanted to ask Apollonia-senpai something."

He could hear a clear, '_Tch_,' in return, though had walked too far to turn around. He was already padding lightly behind the Finn, who had taken her place at Sugawara and Daichi's side with all standing tall like an impenetrable wall of third years. He nervously brought his hand out in front of him, cursing himself that his palm was in fact, physically sweating, and lightly tapped Apollonia's shoulder.

She turned around with a quick snap of her neck, the tips of her hair and eyelashes quite ominous being lit in the conflicting tones of the streetlights and nightfall. She inquired his presence with a graceful lift of her eyebrow and patiently waited for his response.

"U-Uh…" damned it, of course he was stuttering. She probably thought he was pathetic for showing his stomach like that to her as if he were a lowly puppy.

But she slowed her limber stride to settle alongside him, looking down at him in what she dearly hoped to portray as a soft and comforting manner. She was a bit downtrodden to see him flinch and shove his hands in his pockets then quickly look away from her—worried that she probably frightened him more than ease him—though straightened back up when his voice—albeit almost trembling—met her ears once again.

"U-Um… Apollonia-s-senpai…"

'_Yes_,' she mentally prodded.

"I-I was wo-ondering…"

God, he wished he'd just stop sweating.

"YAMAGUCHI!"

Yamaguchi could have very well urinated himself at the sound of Tanaka's voice had he not possessed the self-control.

"What were you wondering about, Yamaguchi," he growled—though almost comically in nature, "You weren't thinking about asking out your senpai were you, hmmm? _Hmmm_? _HMMM_-"

"Tanaka, stop that," Daichi scolded, gracing a hard slap to the second year's head before yanking his collar back, gluing the boy to his hip as to ensure there would be no further interruptions for Yamaguchi. Sugawara chuckled lightly, waving his hand towards the Finn and a violently blushing Yamaguchi, gesturing, '_Continue on_.'

Once he was able to get a grip on his bearings, he exhaled forcefully and turned back up towards the Finn, taking his lower lip into his mouth before speaking.

"Uh," how was he going to go about this, "What… is your position on the court?"

There, that was a good start. Ask her what her position was to break the ice, thus giving him the gateway towards asking when she would finally help train them, and then he would be able to pick her brain for how he could train in order to get a chance to actually be on a starting team.

Apollonia offered him a quick look of inquiry, before answering him in classic Finnish fashion.

"Middle Blocker," she stated.

_Middle Blocker_.

"UUUOOOOH," came Hinata's star struck howl, "You're a middle blocker too, Apple-senpai?!"

Hinata shoved Kageyama out of his way to bypass for the Finn—but was immediately yanked backwards by Daichi, being glued to his other hip alongside Tanaka with Sugawara offering yet another strained wave. Yamaguchi tried to close his jaw without actually moving his hand, and tried to lower his eyebrows to a more respectable level rather than the high peaks of his hairline.

'_Middle Blocker… So she's like Tsukki_,' he hummed inwardly, '_like me…_'

"O-Oh," he returned, trying to quell the palpable excitement in his voice for the sake of remaining casual, "I'm a Middle Blocker too."

He meant to elongate the conversation into something eloquent and enlightening, but found himself stuttering while Apollonia offered him a pitied tone of acknowledgement—as if she were apologetic that he was at a loss for words beyond the ones he spoke.

He glanced around to those in front of him, finding Kageyama and Hinata curiously looking over their shoulders at the two, musing questions of their own, though Daichi ensured that they remained polite enough to allow Yamaguchi the room to speak.

"Di-Do, Do you have any tips for us f-fellow Middle Blockers?"

Apollonia raised her eyebrow and titled her head, rubbing the back of her mane with her bandaged hand.

"What did you want to know?"

Her voice was soft, as if she were trying to save the sanctity of their private conversation despite Hinata desperately trying to wriggle out of Daichi's grip while Kageyama kept flicking his attention behind him. Yamaguchi averted his eyes down to his shuffling feet, mumbling with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Will you be playing with us at all?"

An inaudible, 'snap,' resounded within the third years, Tanaka becoming abnormally quiet. Apollonia too seemed to stiffen at his question, but did not deny him of an answer.

"The team is still incomplete," she stated, almost mechanically.

She turned her head forwards, her eyes half-lidded, then altogether masked as she let the weight of her lashes drag down, giving the appearance that she was consumed in meditation, or something equally as pacifying. Her voice then rose, speaking not only to him, but to the rest of the team as well.

"I will play once we are together again."

She opened her eyes narrowly, a slit of calcite peeking under, aimed back in Yamaguchi's direction. She mumbled something quiet under her breath along the lines of, '_My apologies if that disheartens you_,' before giving a courteous wave, turning towards the destination of her apartment complex.

The rest of the team waved hesitantly, though Hinata whispered to the remaining third years once she was out of earshot.

"What does she mean by that? So, Apple-senpai won't be helping us train?"

"Oh, don't tell me we lowly first years won't be able to see, '_Karsuno's Swan_,' in action," Tsukishima drawled lazily as he made his way up past the group, Yamaguchi reluctantly falling in line with him. Tanaka and Hinata fidgeted under Daichi's grip, both eager to charge their haughty middle blocker with fists and tempers held high. Daichi—in order to dispel them both—knocked their heads together with an audible, '_thunk_,' while Sugawara held out his hands in an appeasing manner towards the two.

"Don't worry," the ashen setter assured, watching as the colors of night painted her form, drenching her ivory in indigo and black, until she altogether vanished down the street.

'_I will help you soar_.'

"Finns never go back on their word."

* * *

_Apollonia's Abode_

_"The Swan Never Sleeps."_

* * *

Her apartment was rather small: not as if she would complain about the size—she was lucky to have been graced with housing quarters at all—but everything was small in Japan compared to Finland, especially the likes of her home in Kalajoki.

The walls were stark white, freshly painted and smoothed before her arrival; she had not yet hang up any pictures of her homeland or pictures of the numerous countries she had visited, mostly because she really never took any pictures or had pictures taken of her during her lifetime, and she had seldom taken out her phone other than to document the smiling faces of the Brazilians, Kenyans and Americans she had the privilege to meet.

But even with little frivolities such as that, she really only took one simple picture just to save face, to show that Apollonia Eevastiina Manner was in fact more than a studious bookworm with a penchant for academics and balancing checkbooks.

They were saved on a separate folder in her phone—not special folder, just a separate one—in order to keep her files well structured so that she did not have her travels mixed with her other photos—which were primarily documentations of certain vegetables that she would buy for a new stew recipe or of the scenery located outside of her porch.

Her phone was oddly bare for a woman of her age: it was as simple, plain and silver as it had been when she first took it out of its packaging, as was its contents inside. Of course, that was mostly because upon arriving in Japan, she decided not to endure the trouble of SIM cards and roaming charges, and just went out and bought an entirely new phone altogether. Her old phone—equally as drab and uninteresting in appearance—was back in Kalajoki, probably powered off until she would once again return. There was only one number in her contact list—begrudgingly being her housing manger less she have troubles with her room, but other than that, everything about the device was completely empty: no numbers, no pictures, nothing but her alarms to wake her up for school and calendar to remind her of exam dates. She primarily communicated with her parents over webcam, or through emails and letters, seeing as calling them would probably have cost her enough euros or yen to rent a car in Miyagi.

Not that she was particularly enthused at the thought of driving in Japan—the youth of Kalajoki were bad enough on the roads, she couldn't imagine what the drivers in Asia were like after hearing the California's speak so rudely of them, not that the west coast was any better. Back in Kalajoki, she harbored the money her parents were saving to buy her a used car—seeing that their efforts would have been wasted since she was more into traveling to other countries rather than traveling ten miles down to the nearest mall—and burrowed it away for other locomotive vehicles: taxis, rickshaws, boat travel, rental vehicles, etc. In Miyagi she had settled to just go out and buy a bike; she was set on just _renting_ a bicycle or even a car, but after applying to one of the local Universities, she had broke down and just bought a new bike for the sake of permanence.

She strolled over towards her porch, rather grateful that she was actually able to get a room facing the sun, providing her the perfect spot to dry her clothes—though it hardly mattered, considering she had little to wash.

She really only had her school uniform, as well as seven days worth of athletic clothes. Her parents had provided her with money for shopping as soon as she entered Japan so that she would be able to venture out and find clothes worn by Asian youths, but unfortunately, she was not exactly a desirable size in Japan, nor were their aesthetics all that appealing to her.

Never before had she seen so many ruffles and tulle on one article of clothing in her life—but God was Japan infested with them—leather as well, among other foreign textures that were miles away from the cotton and wool she was so accustomed to. She stood absolutely petrified when she first walked into a clothing shop, even more so when the cute natives with their petite stature and plush faces just stared at her as if she had just walked into another dimension. And as the women brought their hands to their mouth with shock to see someone of her nature, she turned foot and power-walked out of the mall, red-faced and mortified.

Needless to say, she was somewhat thrifty using her athletic clothes, going so far as to hand wash them in the shower and dry them for the next day since she was reluctant to go out and actually buy something new. She lifted a pair of tights from the line, tucking them under her arm before returning down the narrow hall towards her kitchen.

She pulled a small glass mug from the cupboard and filled it with a bit of water before setting it on the counter. She opened her fridge and pulled out a half-cut lemon from the crisper, squeezing what juice was left into her mug. Lemon water was refreshing in nature, and cleansing for the body, and after a long day of scrutinizing the band of misfit crows and well as their opponents, she took the liberty to give herself a pick-me-up for the night to come. Despite the bleak color outside, and the time displayed on her phone, she still had much to do before she would allow herself the luxury of sleeping.

She flipped the lantern on that hung over her workstation, sliding the chair out as she set her cup of lemon water to the side. She opened a drawer at her left, revealing a long line of colored notebooks of varying sizes, each with their own pen strapped to its back. She pulled out a few notebooks, setting them on a small pedestal, first opening the grey spiral that read, '_Wing Spikers_.'

She documented Tanaka's noticeable strength increase due to his maturing body—though he was still heavily lacking in a maturing mind—and wrote extensively of his use of calf muscles and abdominal muscles. In a separate color, she regarded with caution that due to his liberal calf usage, he was putting himself at risk for muscle strains and Achilles tendonitis by relying too much on the tips of his toes for balance. She praised Daichi for his improved receives—though she was honestly unsurprised that he was making so much progress, considering he pushed himself daily to exceed his own expectations. There were lines and lines that illustrated Ennoshita's playing style—how it was not innately aggressive, but nonetheless improved since his first year.

She flipped through her other books, the ones that were labeled, '_Middle Blockers_,' and, '_Setters_,' absolutely gushing about the phenomenal pair that was Hinata and Kageyama. During their matches and practices, she had been so consumed with her awe, that she had made the mistake of writing most of her notes in Finnish—thus forcing her to re-write the entirety of her thoughts in English, and then back into Japanese for the University to judge. Had they asked for her notes in a foreign triplicate, she would have been fine just sending her writing as it was—but she highly doubted that the professors were masterfully fluent in Finnish, or even English for that matter.

Trying to keep her head on straight, as well as keep an unbiased eye towards the two—she had scolded Hinata's recklessness, citing his disregard for the fall after his high jumps, for the sometimes odd way his knees would bend upon impact. As well, she slighted Kageyama—for even though the boy was no doubt a genius, and no doubt swept nearly all of them in speed and stamina—his form could have used a bit of a spit-and-shine polish. There was stiffness to the way he set, a lack of relaxation and control over his outer demeanor that made his tosses look far too intense for what they actually were. It was inefficient for the boy—the look on his face would eventually suck out all of his energy and leave him open for his opponents to catch any mistake he would make, any slip up to give them the upper hand.

She took a sip of water before she finished her thoughts on Tsukishima's height regarding its advantages as well as its disadvantages. She cocked an eyebrow at the boy's body mass index, trying to assure herself that he was inherently a small-boned individual, as well he was not from Finland—thus not as bulky as her brethren up north—and that he was not distressingly underweight for a boy his age and ancestry.

Still, he could stand to gain a few kilograms, or _ten_.

She shook the thought off, glancing at the time displayed on her phone's screen, turning it of with a small '_click_.' She shuffled through her files, making small comments on some of her prior observances, fleshing out a hypothesis regarding their improvement rate, coming up with exercise plans for those who could stand to carve a little muscle—essentially everyone, actually—among other trivial side-notes here and there. She set each one aside once finished, turning them on their façade and running a hand through her hair, taking another gulp of lemon water, or rather by now it was mostly acidic pulp.

But, as she came to one lone book—vibrantly orange, just as loud as his uniform, just as loud as his personality—she paused, and traced her long fingers over the bold print she had stamped on its cover, as if every stroke of her hand were a thousand hours of memories she had dedicated to that one, single boy, all the hours she spent analyzing his spritely jumps and hops from end to end of the court, all of the hours she lovingly endured his horrendous volume and aggressive affection.

'_Libero_,' it read, finer than any calligraphy she had seen.

'_Libero_,' it sounded, as it literally rolled off her tongue.

'_Sweeper_,' was what it translated to in Finnish; and that was exactly what he did. He swept the court with that little, lithe body of his, scooping up each return with a mastery that even University students could not replicate.

She looked inside at the words she had written merely months prior, nothing but praises and exultations for him despite their free-fall from the skies. His recklessness and prideful bruises exasperated her, but she could not deny that his form was fair, and he was unnaturally flexible and limber—somewhat surpassing what she assumed the normal human body could stand. Her diction was positive, through and through, though stained with a maternal vexation when he would shrug off his sore muscles, completely ignoring her request to properly stretch, heat and wrap his trouble areas. Still, even Apollonia could tell by her own, vague linguistics that she was more than happy to document his improvement, to document all of the hours she spent watching him grow and prosper.

But then she read the very last bit of thought her hand had written when he stalked out of the gym with his fist curled in anger. Her writing was smeared and trembling, full of emotions she thought she was skilled and strong enough to subdue. She damned herself for using the words she did against him: Nishinoya didn't deserve to hear her negative comments right after their resident Ace walked off, he didn't deserve to have a second foot crushing down on his back, snapping his spine between his wings when there was already heavy burdens weighing him down.

Her hand was light as it pressed down against the paper, bits of water making the ink run as her wrist jerked and swiveled, jotting down in simple, English penmanship:

'_I'm sorry_.'

* * *

_One Year Before the Storyline_

_"The Guardian; Responsibility."_

* * *

'_He's so small, like an elementary school kid.'_

_'But he's pretty talented for someone his size.'_

_'It's lucky that he's a libero: that's where the shorter ones usually prosper.'_

_'I wonder if he'd be even better if he were a little taller.'_

_'Yeah, he's probably thinking the same thing._'

It's not as if he was immune to their words: it was just that he was so skilled putting on a brave front that he was.

Sure, he was not the tallest member of the team, and he did begrudgingly have to buy trousers from the petite section—as if he would ever admit such a fact to anyone else but his dearest friends. And, while it was a compliment that he was athletically talented, did they really have to tack on that snide comment of, '_for someone his size_?' Why couldn't they just say that he was talented and leave it at that? Height or not, he worked just as hard as any of his teammates whether he was on or off the court. He was worthy of the praise he was given, but not because he was small, not because he wasn't two meters tall.

So why couldn't people see that?

Why couldn't someone just come out and say, '_You're enough. You're strong_?'

'_I trust you with my back, I know you'll protect it._'

'_Thank you, Nishinoya_.'

Words such as those would be worth more than gold in his book, more precious than the backhanded comments he often received.

As far as he could see, his height was irrelevant to his skill. Even though he had to take an extra step or two to make up for lost ground, he wasn't any less talented than those long-legged giants opposite him. He was waiting to bloom, to soar, but was constantly held down by the doubts of his peers—doubts that, unfortunately, were dingy enough to stain his own clothing.

'_I could have gotten that return if I could stretch my arm a little bit longer, if I could jump a little bit farther_,' he inwardly scolded. It was only a practice match, but he couldn't bear to glance up too see Asahi or Apollonia standing on the front line, looking down at him while he was on his knees, the point lost because of his downfall.

But when he looked up, they both were turned slightly in his direction, panting and doubled over. They were grateful—both showing in their own way.

Asahi, like the rising sun, was just peaking over the horizon, smiling gently, laughing a small laugh. He wiped the sweat under his lips, shifting the tuft of hair resting on his chin before he brought his hand back to his knees. It was warm, the way he looked at him; like the dawn of a new day giving him another chance to live and breathe in tandem with the earth he stood so solidly on. Giving him renewed energy.

And Apollonia—though she wasn't smiling—there was a glow to her: it illuminated her eyes, and haloed her feathered hair, as if an ivory star had ignited from behind. Sweat was dripping down her face, glittering like dew condensing in the nocturne air, bouncing the light of the moon off its surface. It was almost too cliché to say that she exuded the metaphorical, '_cool-headedness_' that she was often praised for by his fellow first years. She was like ice on a hot, humid night: crisp and refreshing, cold but not frigid. It made him feel exhilarated, like he could sprint across half-frozen water with his arms thrown out to the side, laughing without fear.

It was like night and day, watching the two of them.

Despite her innate strength gifted by the genetic superiority of her Northern bone structure and muscle composition, Apollonia was quiet on the court, slinking around almost unseen if not for her ghastly height and even ghastlier hair. It was like she was swimming through shadows, bursting forth from a nocturnal cavern, like plucking a star or glowing feather from the water's surface. She was led by her own light in the darkness, like a swan that flies beyond the sunset, drinking in the ivory and alabaster stars out of the sky, illuminating them upon her fluttering bristles, her down slicked back as the midnight air licked around her with each powerful flap and flutter. Five hundred miles she could cover within the night, as all resided in slumber. Slowly rising up, stretching her wings, she was ascending higher as all sunk lower.

But as the telltale vermillion and honey of dawn kissed her plumage, she would descend, and give back the morning sunlight their glorious throne. Night would give in to day, and she would settle, walking the land in his sunlight, in his shadow. He rose so valiantly over the skyline, and fearlessly emitting colors more beautiful than anything that one's soiled hand would touch, colors pure and uninhibited in nature. When he kneeled in exhaustion, she did not hesitate to turn the skies black, and when she sunk into her agonized shell, he would return the warmth of morning once more.

And they turned, over their shoulder, to the one who stood between them both, who was eternally bathed in their changing spectrum. He felt the cool, controlled gale of her indigo winds speckled in ivory; he felt the gentle safflower sunrise, and absorbed the warmth in brought, holding both in his hands as he remained at the baseline.

Apollonia Eevastiina Manner, who took the heavens in darkness, under the stars, when life walked blindly in the black.

Azumane Asahi, who spread his rays of morning over the Earth, aggressively orange, gently red, bringing light back across the ground, dazzling all with his sunlit glare.

They were a sight to watch, and not because they were both unearthly tall, with powerfully structured bodies. They were a sight to watch, because even with the ball sitting between them, the point hopelessly lost, they were grateful. They were gasping for air, exhausted from their fight, but they took the time to turn to the humble guardian, who sat at the baseline,

And thank him.

"Good job, Nishinoya," Asahi puffed, "You'll get it next time."

'_You're good enough. You're strong_.'

"You have a powerful sense of responsibility," Apollonia whispered through wheezing breaths, "Thank you."

'_Thank you, Nishinoya_.'

They both bowed their heads, more than exhausted, both night and day fatigued from sharing their ephemeral throne. They didn't need to say it, but the message was clear.

'_I trust you with my back, I know you'll protect it_.'

"I-I'll get them all next time," he boasted, stepping slightly towards them, "I swear I will!"

Apollonia looked at him, bent over her knees, though still somehow taller than him, offering him a look of confusion.

"You don't have to bear that burden alone," she said, "We will work hard as well."

"But, you're really slow, Apple-san," Nishinoya said in a matter-of-fact tone—a tone that Apollonia dutifully did not appreciate in the slightest, especially when the silent titters from Daichi and Sugawara spread to the less discreet Tanaka. But to her surprise, Nishinoya beamed, and slapped her arm reassuringly, lifting his chest with a budding pride.

"But that's okay! Your jobs is to attack," he said placing his hands on his hips, "So you two just take the sky, and I'll handle things down here! With me as libero, the both of you won't need to worry about your backs, because I'll protect them!"

Apollonia raised her eyebrow, her neck lifting a bit, the fringe of her hair bristling. She struggled to fully digest what had been said to her—and the immaculate amount of sincerity that adorned his oath—and just stared at him, her face blank and silent, her mouth clumsily trying to form a response, though settled for just an unintelligible grunt. Asahi as well straightened up, his face wiped clean as if it had fallen on the floor under his shoes before twitching up into a small, flustered smile.

'_You won't need to worry_.'

He, Nishinoya Yuu, as the Guardian Deity of Karasuno, who stood humbly in both of their shadows, would protect them, would lift them both up.

Night and Day.

'_I'll protect you.'_

_'I am strong enough.'_

He'd never let them down.

* * *

_Two Months Prior to the Storyline_

_"The Rising Sun and The Guardian; Severed Ties."_

* * *

_SLAM_.

All he knew was that he was falling, falling, _plummeting_ out of they sky, a seemingly endless decent, the wind whipping around him, through him. His teammate's voices had been lost in the decline, and he had lost his own, his breath empty as shallow as he hit the ground on his back, his arms spread out, broken and clipped.

_SLAM_.

'_Nishinoya is doing so much_,' he mused. But it was all for not, his own teammates labored efforts wasted on him, someone so meager and pathetic like himself. Someone unworthy of the title, '_Ace_.' He was practically crawling over the floor, covered in bruises and sweat, his limber arms thrust out in front of him for every dive. Sugawara stood between them limbo of Heaven and Earth, delivering the ball to him for assured victory.

_SLAM_.

But, he couldn't score. Not a single point: everything just splattered against the wall, denied their view beyond the horizon. Everything black.

_SLAM_.

He was afraid. They had been defeated.

_SLAM_.

Nishinoya's efforts,

Wasted.

Sugawara's tosses,

Wasted.

Everything,

Wasted.

"Block follow ups… I couldn't do them all!"

_That's_ what Nishinoya was worried about? He by far was the bloodiest one, the one who worked so hard to keep his place in the sky, who was torn down the most, covered in scars. How could he be so frustrated running around the court, when their rock, their, '_Ace_,' could not even penetrate the, '_Iron Wall_?' Not even once?

His fists shook.

"WHY," he cried.

"Why aren't you blaming me?! It was my fault we lost!" The frustration was rising in his wasted corpse, his voice croaking and red with fury. They were staring at him, frightened with disbelief, the four of them, watching as the fires engulfed both he and Nishinoya.

"No matter how many balls you recover, it's meaningless if I can't get a spike through!"

"Asahi," came Apollonia's even hum, firm but stoic.

He couldn't turn to face her. Could she break their wall? Could she fly beyond their horizon, dying the skies black? She was not a flightless crow. She had never fallen, she had never experienced the dread of failure, how could she when she was eternally in the sky above them, nourished by her roots below?

Her words were meaningless.

Their words were meaningless.

_He_ was meaningless.

"What do you mean, 'it's meaningless,'" Nishinoya growled, his petite frame licked with fire, pushing back against Asahi with his own frustration. "Then why didn't you call for that last pass? You could have hit it from your position."

"I couldn't have scored anyway, if you had tossed it to me," he spoke lowly, angling his head off to the side, unable to meet any of them in the eye. The ropes around him were pulled so tight, the bindings on his arms, his legs, his wings choking him, stretching beyond his reach. The light within him was slowly fading, giving way not to night, but to nothingness.

Nishinoya grabbed him by the collar, throwing him back, twisting his bindings tighter.

"You won't know if you don't try, dammit!"

He was choking, tighter. Tighter.

"The next one could have gone through, for all you know!"

Sugawara was striding towards them, his arm out, but he was already broken. They all were.

_CRACK_.

His skin had shattered.

"DON'T YOU DARE DECIDE TO GIVE UP ON A BALL I'VE RECOVERED!"

And as he walked away, Nishinoya's eyes glassy, his own no drier, he damned himself.

He had fallen.

They had been severed.

…

_The Next Day_.

"He didn't show up," Nishinoya stated with his arms crossed.

The rest of the team did not speak, but glanced at the ground, silently acknowledging his observation, the absence of their, '_Ace_,' rather apparent among their dwindling flock. Apollonia stood off to the side, her notebook in hand, observing Nishinoya as his shoulders tightened, as he begun to tremble, like the beginning of an earthquake. He spun towards the Finn, pointing towards her with an outstretched finger.

"Apple-san," he began roughly, like the texture of hard clay, "You need to bring Asahi-san back."

Apollonia, understandably shocked, tilted her head back, as if to question, '_What_?'

"Tell him you'll help him," Nishinoya pressed, his words as loud in volume as ever, but tougher in delivery: desperate, angry.

"Tell him you that if he comes back, that you can help him overcome the blockers, no matter what."

They turned expectantly towards Apollonia, watering the fragile seeds that cocooned their hope, the heart of their Ace. Perhaps she could extend her roots to him, to nourish his feeble frame. Perhaps…

But Apollonia just shook her head. She could not nourish what didn't want to feed.

"It is not my place," she said.

"What do you mean," Nishinoya returned with a sneer, grabbing hold of Apollonia's shirtsleeve.

"He wanted to be better, you can bring him back!"

"This is not about me. Right now, there is a disconnect between the two of you," she returned, lightly brushing Nishinoya's hand from her shirt.

But she didn't mean that: it wasn't them as a pair, it was them individually, all three of them, setter, libero and wing spiker. But she found herself pinpointing them, as if the problem were as simple enough as their weakening bonds. But it wasn't the matter of group dynamics, it was of self-worth.

And she felt disgusted that she was callous enough to blame the faults in their connections, knowing full well that Nishinoya valued the wires that connected them all more than anything.

Nishinoya stepped back from his Finnish elder, his mouth parted in shock, his brow furrowed.

"Working with a broken machine is inefficient. If the connection between you two cannot be mended, then I will no longer practice with this team. My role here will be primarily academic."

No. No.

She didn't mean that. She didn't mean any of that. She had made a mistake saying what she had.

That wasn't what she wanted him to hear, he didn't deserve to have an ultimatum like that dumped on him. It wasn't the team, it was the individual. It wasn't the bond between he and Asahi, it was the fear that held them both back. That held all of them back from trudging forwards.

It was just fear, it was just doubt.

His fists curled, his body burning up once again, as though he had been doused with gasoline and defeat, but he couldn't find the means to yell at her. He was cracking, his surface splitting in two, three, one hundred fragments, opening him up and swallowing him under. Falling.

Without their dawn, they had been bathed in darkness, blind in the cool breeze of the inky obsidian around them, but without even the night sky to console them, then what would befall of the land beneath that had sought their attention, their praise?

"Don't say that," he barked, walking past the club doors.

"Don't call us, 'broken.'"

* * *

_Two Months Before Storyline_

_After Practice_

"_The Ashen Setter; Roots_."

* * *

"This isn't your fault either," she said quietly as they made their way down the road, "Just so you know."

Everyone was just on edge that was it. Everyone was still reeling with emotions after the fall.

She was hoping that he would glance up at her, and grace her with a small smile—even if it was forced and insincere, even though she didn't deserve it. But Sugawara would not even raise his head to her; he held his body low, as if he were not even worthy to walk upright with the rest of his teammates. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and his head was facing away from her, more towards the dimly lit shops as they passed.

He was blaming himself, clear as day, for the unfortunate events that had transpired. He blamed himself for Asahi shattering in his hands and growing fearful of battling head-on against his opponents, for using and abusing him just because he was, '_The tallest_,' just because he was their, '_Ace_.' He blamed himself for all of their losses, because he wasn't fast enough or strong like his teammates, and _he_ couldn't even handle the pressure he placed upon himself. Just as Asahi became scared to call for a toss, he became scared to toss at all.

They were all afraid, every one of them.

Asahi had lost the courage to roam the skies and was slowly fading into wisps of nothingness.

Sugawara crumbled under the burdens he placed upon himself as a setter: to orchestrate and execute the perfect offense, to bring everyone together by acting as the buffer between Earth and Heaven.

Nighinoya trembled on the ground, damning himself that the entities he grew such a longing for, looking up at them like heroes were abandoning him because of their own fears. The worst part was: he couldn't do a thing about it, he couldn't console them, he felt like he had been shoved back out of their minds, and that terrified him. He didn't want to be forgotten or be cast aside. '_I'm here_,' he wanted to yell, '_I'll protect your backs!_'

But none of it did any good.

To see them crumble sent shockwaves up and down Apollonia's arms, weighing down her shoulders and her mouth into a full body frown. She wasn't even on the court with them, watching idly from the stands far from their crowd in the shadows, and she felt shattered, severed, disheartened by their defeat. She couldn't bear to endure their vulnerable expressions: they tugged at the slowly beating heart within her chest, until she too wore their emotions on her skin.

They reached the base of the hill, passing by a store still illuminated, the headband-donning shop owner reading his paper with tired eyes. She held her hand out in front of Sugawara's chest, ushering him to stop, then made her way into the shop, not a moment later coming back out with a small paper bag. She held it out to Sugawara, though he hesitantly glanced at the bag as if she were outright handing him a tangible question mark.

"You all seem to be partial to this Nikuman," she clarified, "I bought the spiciest one."

A small upturn of his lips was barely legible in their light, accented by his quiet, defeated voice.

"Oh, thank you, Apollonia-chan," he returned weakly, "But I'm not very hungry right now."

"You don't have to eat it," she deadpanned, as if ingesting such a meal would have been nothing short of ludicrous in nature. Sugawara tilted his head to further emphasize the confused, '_What am I supposed to do with it then_,' he offered her, complete with a quirked lip and brow, holding the Nikuman as though it were made of glass.

"Isn't something like that a symbol in your culture," she asked clumsily, gesturing to the bag a little more timidly than she intended to. Seeing that Sugawara's face was still contorted in a shape of disbelief, she snapped her neck away from him, looking off into the broad, Eastern skies to her right and fiddled with the strap of her bag.

She was just being courteous: she had meant for the gesture to acknowledge her intention to console them to the best of her abilities—which, obviously resulted in complete failure on her part. If she were lucky enough to be blessed with a small height or waif-like build, or basically possess any qualities relating to a traditional woman for that matter, she would have gently hovered her hand near the back of his arm, towards his elbow—as if to assure him, '_I'll do my best to make everything all right_.'

But she bore none of those qualities on her skin—the most she wore was the little feather etched into her arm, though even an emblem as loaded as the tattoo on her skin seemed dingy beneath her clothes, under the dreary lighting above them.

Therefore, she had the bright idea to buy him hot food.

It was something—whether he decided to eat it or not—that was warm to the touch, _comforting_. It was spicy: something that Apollonia eventually learned through his habit after lunch of ingesting numerous mints and portable mouthwashes was to mask the smell of peppers and chili sauce, was Sugawara's favorite flavor. It was true to his culture—a food that was oddly fun in appearance, and common in festivals as well as convenience stores—so it must have appealed to him just by the kitsch alone, to eat a food somewhat indulgent in nature. It was a treat, in short.

She had intended to hand him the bag, and exchange mental dialogue with him, then both be off on their way to their respective houses: his smile restored and intact, her inner-depreciation silenced with the assurance that she was at least able to console _one_ of the three downtrodden crows.

Sugawara folded the edge of the bag slightly over, holding it limply in his hand as they returned to a slow walk at her side towards their respective homes, his, '_Thank you_,' quiet in nature, aimed more at the ground than her. Apollonia bowed her neck in a defeated fashion: food had not worked, her shameless attempt at appealing to him with cultural symbolism only confused him, and probably made her look like an ignorant fool. Only her unspoken words were left as an option, though the thought of it tore her apart: would she speak intelligibly for him, would he understand her, would she be able to get her point across?

It never hurt to try.

"We all deal differently with the trials we are faced," she began, shifting her sleeves up high on her arm to allow the cool, evening air to prickle her skin—hoping that by some grace, perhaps the chill would reawaken the feather on her arm and soften the hard look on her face and allow her to relax within his presence. She unconsciously ran her hand up and down her arm to smooth the almost unperceivable ivory hairs standing on end before her hand settled idly on her bag once she realized just how fidgety she had shown herself to be.

She had fallen so hard on the track—the track that rocketed her father to brief stardom among fellow athletes his age, still studying at the University—and yet when she stood, lightly scraped externally, but internally bleeding, thrashing and groaning in agonizing pain, she trudged on forwards, as though her muscle's inevitable collapse was nothing more than a trip along the sidewalk.

Sure, she had cried, cursed Finnish oaths she probably was not supposed to know, and trembled as her body fought her tooth and nail to move even an inch without thousands of nerve endings standing at their peak. But, as well, she looked up to her father—a man who suffered recurring tendonitis upon his final days as an athlete, and yet was somehow able to finish the race with his arms spread out as if he were embracing the sun, then airlifted the hospital minutes later once he collapsed to his knees, crying with joy despite not even having a single medal draped around his neck. She looked up to him—to soar higher than her faint heart would let her, to allow her wings to fully expand as wide as they could manage, and then a little further.

But the pain still lingered, then ignited as she bared her back for flight. Her mother took initiative to nourish her aspirations—educating her in the art of health and fitness: how to properly feed and maintain her problematic body, how to sow one's self and find nectar even in the most horrendous of climates. She learned how to extend her roots into the ground, and soak in the Earth's gracious energy, and feed until her body could digest no more. She indulged in yoga for strength and flexibility, and training on sand to lessen the impact that concrete would have on her, but as well strengthen her even further by adjusting to such a soft surfaces as the beaches of Kalajoki and California.

Perhaps, it would be too much to say that she was never destined to do more than breathe and blink, with a flawed body such as hers: tall and gangly by Nordic aesthetics, eternally dyed with pain due to chronic illness, and ultimately vulnerable to infection and injury to the point that she was terrified to enter her own bathroom without soap in her right hand and a box of bandages and painkillers in the left.

But she had dealt with it differently than one would assume from her—she faced her trial the way _she_ wanted to. It was tedious, and time consuming, but she could not deny that she was overcome with pride at seeing others enthused by her athletic prowess: prowess that took _years_ and _years_ to successfully build, maintain, and improve.

"We all deal differently with the trials that we are faced," she repeated, this time her voice growing in resolve, enough to give her the courage to turn towards Sugawara and actually muster up the gumption to look him in the eye.

"But eventually, we'll all return to one another despite our differences, because beneath the ground, a forest's roots are all intertwined."

Sugawara raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips in thoughts.

"That sounded pretty poetic, Apollonia-chan, is it a Finnish proverb or something?"

"Uh… no," she deadpanned with a small recoil. "I did not intend it to sound poetic, should I reword it?"

"No no, it's fine the way it is," Sugawara assured with a strained smile, trying his best not to laugh at the fact that Apollonia looked completely serious about rewording her entire monologue for his benefit.

She had done her best to console them, though even _he_ wasn't sure the proper way of mending the situation. It would have been convenient that Asahi came back and everything could be back to normal: but there was still animosity, and everyone was still wallowing in self-pity, everyone was still terrified to play, to play with one another in fear of letting each other down. It was an endless cycle, an eternal circle of self-blame that no one but themselves could fix.

'_She's trying_,' Sugawara assured himself, thankful that Apollonia despite all of the factors that separated her from them, she too was entangled in their roots, she was a part of them. He felt grateful that he could metaphorically lean against her in that manner, that she cared enough about them despite not having any valid reason to do so.

"Please do not hold your head that low," she said suddenly.

Sugawara was honestly taken back, seeing that her brow was slightly creased—almost in a motherly fashion—as if she were truly concerned with his demeanor.

"You'll get a neck ache doing that."

_Of course._

"As well…"

She tilted her head away from him, lifting her chin up, the terse line of her jaw quite ominous as the sickly glow of the shops painted her skin and shadow, and opened her mouth before she let it close. Sugawara blinked to clear his vision and ensure that the color building in her skin was in fact of the tone he believed it to be: a light European pink warming bits of her skin under the conflicting tones of indigo and yellow. And as he confirmed the small flush that she was desperately trying to hide, he straightened his shoulders and offered her a gentle smile, knowing very well that she could still see him in her peripheral.

She waved lightly before setting off on her path home, whatever words she may have spoken tossed to the side in place of a nonverbal, '_Goodnight_,' by the small swivel of her hand.

Sugawara folded the bag of Nikuman under his arm and cupped one hand around his mouth, calling,

"Check yourself to see if you have a fever, Apollonia-chan, your ears are all red!"

He chuckled quietly as she cringed, apparent even in the dusk, but allowed the grin the slowly drop as she made her way out of sight.

And in silence he walked home.

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**

_The bit of prose at the beginning of the chapter is an excerpt from a beautiful piece of Finnish poetry. I've really been hung up on Eeva-Liisa Manner (who bears an uncanny resemblance to Apollonia's name, which I DID NOT intend to do!) Eeva-Liisa is all about solitude and kind of somber poetry, it actually fits Apollonia's character really well. But for this chapter, I chose Jaako, because I thought the drive the boy felt in the poem somewhat matched up with Nishinoya when he was watching Apollonia and Asahi._

_Yamaguchi __development! That angel deserves it!_

_Small glimpse of Apollonia's apartment/ personal life. She spends her nights filling her journals regarding the crows, and in later chapters we will actually get to have a better look of what exactly she writes._

_Also, Finns are in fact, very true to their promises, which is why they seldom speak (because there is a Finnish saying that goes, 'Once uttered, the word won't return to the mouth,' so they often choose their words wisely.)_

_**Also (Also)** 'Asahi,' can be translated to, 'Morning, Sunlight, Dawn of A New Day,' which explains the symbolism of night/day between him and Apollonia, because **(FUN FACT)** swans typically fly at night, and just waft around during the day. And during migration, Whooper Swans have been know to cover up to 500 miles a night traveling at 60 mph!_

_Sorry, it's a (long-ass) disheartening chapter, but things will only get better! I __promise! (Also, since this chapter is so long, I'll probably take a bit of a break and update later than intended, as to take a breather, sorry for the inconvenience!)_


End file.
